The Fabric of Time

The Fabric of Time

Or else it’s something else that prompted you to pick through each of those
things you see. At first, it being the second number, you seemed to be a nice
gatherer. You gathered time and space like hours and inches, unless you’re into
that wacky metric thing those kids do now-a-days. I’m not trying to say being
divisible by ten is a bad idea, but honestly, what number isn’t. One day, while
you were out spying on marbles, I searched through your gathering pouch, and
there among the miscellaneous measurements was a small clump of twisty ties. Not
normal twisty ties, you know, the kind you find in grocery stores or hastily
written constitutions, but very powerful, almost too powerful, twisty ties. My
first thought, well not my first because that had something to do with doctors
and screwdrivers, was that you were into some expensive group therapy ritual. Then I
remembered that twisty ties, this particular type of rare twisty tie, are what
hold our vital organs to our oddly shaped existence. And if you gathered them all up,
then all the clear plastic sacks would break open, spilling tropical fruits and
cheap vegetables out onto the linoleum floor. Sure, some vegetables are
inexpensive and easy to grow, but those tropical delights, with all their
lactose and sucrose, are what hold our world together.

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