Saturday, January 8, 2011

Bathroom Monologue: Whirlwind Thoughts

I’m not saying the weather should turn you religious. Tornadoes stir irrational awe in the human mind and breast. When a tornado hits your house, some people think of God. When the tornado actually uproots your house, more people think something’s up. When the tornado whisks your house away and lands it safely, even I’d call it lucky. But when the tornado carries your house seventeen blocks and drops it in the yard of the sister you haven’t talked to since Dad died, I don’t know how agnostic you get to be anymore. Especially when our front door is now perfectly aligned with hers. Now go talk to her. I think our mailbox is in the chimney.


  1. Better than dropping your house ON your sister!

  2. I suppose you'd have to be fairly stubborn not to at least entertain the idea of a higher power under such circumstances. Clever John!

  3. Presumably dropping the house on your sister would be a different message.

  4. How appropriate that I'm wearing my wicked witch of the west socks at the moment.

    I grinned at the line about people thinking "something's up" ....
    Your house flying through the air would be a clue. A big freakin clue. This was fun. I usually run away run away at tornado stories because I once watched one go right over me while lying in a drainage ditch and holding on to tree roots. Not a day I enjoy replaying in my mind's eye letmetellyou. [But the good news is I'm about to go dancing, so I'll work off any left over angst from being blindsided by a childhood trauma by just innocently reading flash]

    ps. You owe me a cookie

  5. Wow. You managed to take a tornado story somewhere very new. Stunning.

  6. And hence, the wicked witch of the east met the wicked witch of the west-- we ain't in kansas no more, Todo


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