From 43e2b69dfb0d37cce157ea78a35b47e54c85c7d3 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2015 12:13:08 -0700 Subject: Fix bad commit / other issues --- stagnant.html | 39 --------------------------------------- 1 file changed, 39 deletions(-) delete mode 100644 stagnant.html (limited to 'stagnant.html') diff --git a/stagnant.html b/stagnant.html deleted file mode 100644 index 1836434..0000000 --- a/stagnant.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,39 +0,0 @@ - - - - - - - - - - Stagnant | Autocento of the breakfast table - - - - - - - - -
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Stagnant

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“Riding the bus to work is a good way to think or to read” Paul thought to himself on the bus ride to work. His thoughts couldn’t become real to him because he didn’t want to look insane to everyone else on the bus. His thoughts came to him like someone yelling over a hard wind. He was trying to write them on his memory but the act of writing was easier and more immediate than that of listening. He was afraid that when he looked at his memory later he wouldn’t be able to read what was written.

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“Thoughts are like the wind outside a moving bus” he thought “or rather the bus is a brain slamming into columns of stagnant air causing them to whistle past in a confusion of something.” He could barely hear the voice yelling to him over the wind. “Speak up” he thought to the voice, then remembered it was his own. He wished he’d remembered a book to read.

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He looked at his hands to pass the time. They were dry in the winter air that had seeped its way into the bus. He tried to figure out how many hours they would make it before cracking and bleeding. “Maybe three or four” he thought accidentally out loud. He looked around expecting stares from everyone on the seat. He was surprised that he was the only one on the bus.

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