Friday, December 31st, 2010

Time	Event
2:30a	Cartier tank,omega moon watch,vintage... Cartier tank,omega moon watch,vintage hermes,quilted bag chanel,dior women@@@@@The big boy is almost at their heels It came out of the swimming pool just after they finished playing Adie's Wedding in Rampopo, the baby-house on the side lawn (today Lo-Lo got to play Adie)Sometimes Libbit can make these awful things go away by scribbling on her pad, but now Libbit is sleeping - she has had a great many troubled nights Cartier tank lately The big boy leaps off the path and onto the beach, spraying sand all aroundIts bulging eyes stare Its fragile white belly, so full of noisome guts, bulges The two girls, standing with their hands linked and their feet in the running boil of what Daddy calls the little surf, look at each otherThen they look at the ship, swinging at anchor omega moon watch with its sails furled and shiningIt looks even closer, as if it has moved in to rescue them Lo-Lo says We have to Tessie says But I can't SWIM! 682 You can dogpaddle! The big boy leapsThey can hear its guts slosh when it landsThey sound like wet garbage in a barrel of waterThe blue fades from the sky and then the sky bleeds redThen, slowly, it vintage hermes changes back againIt's been that kind of dayAnd haven't they known this kind of day was coming? Haven't they seen it in Libbit's haunted eyes? Nan Melda knows; even Daddy knows, and he's not here all the timeToday he's in Tampa, and when they look at the greenish-white horror that's almost upon them, they know that Tampa might as well quilted bag chanel be the far side of the moonThey are on their own Tessie grips Lo-Lo's shoulder with cold fingers What about the rip? But Lo-Lo shakes her headThe rip is good! The rip will take us to the boat! There's no more time to talkThe frog-thing is getting ready to leap againAnd they understand that, while it cannot be real, somehow it isBetter to chance the dior women w (Comment on this)
2:38a	@@@@@ I took it out on the back porchThe wind @@@@@ I took it out on the back porchThe wind blowing in from the Gulf was strong but warm, lifting my sweaty hair back from my brow and templesI decided to walk to the beach and drink my juice there I stopped three-quarters of the way down the boardwalk, about to take a sip of my juiceThe glass was tipped, and some of it splattered on one bare foot Out there on the Gulf, riding in toward shore on one of the large, wind-driven waves, was a bright green tennis ball It means nothing, I told myself, but that wouldn't hold waterIt meant everything, and I knew it from the moment I saw itI tossed the glass into the sea oats and broke into a lunging lurch - the Edgar Freemantle version of running that year It took me fifteen seconds to reach the end of the boardwalk, maybe even less, but in that time I saw three more tennis balls floating in on the tide Then six, then eightMost were off to my right - to the north I wasn't watching where I was going and plunged off the end of the boardwalk into thin air, arms whirlingI hit the sand still running and might have stayed up if I'd landed on my good leg, but I didn'tA zigzag of pain corkscrewed up my bad one, 904 shin to knee to hip, and I went sprawling in the sandSix inches in front of my nose was one of those damned tennis balls, its fuzz soaked flat DUNLOP was printed on the side, the letters as black as damnation I struggled to my feet, looking wildly out at the GulfThere were only a few incoming balls in front of El Palacio, but farther north, near Big Pink, I saw a green flotilla - a hundred at least, probably many moreShe burned the picture and she's asleep in her apartment a thousand miles from here, safe and sound "It means nothing," I said, but now the wind blowing my hair back felt cold instead of warmI began to limp toward Big Pink, down where the sand was wet and packed and shiningThe peeps flew up in front of me in cloudsEvery now and then an incoming wave would drop a tennis ball at my feet There were lots of them now, scattered on the wet hardpa (Comment on this)

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