Thursday, August 11, 2005

Five minute fiction

I found this crumpled in my green plastic beach bag. If its just gonna end up in the river, it might as well end up here. The Bean Burrito Story!

John used to eat Taco Bell bean burritos in nine bites. I counted. He was pretty consistant, bite chewchew bite chewswallowchewchew bite. All together it was about a minute and nine seconds for each burrito. He was really skinny then and didnt have wirey grey hair at his temples. He ate without evident pleasure but with considerable need. I dont know, even now, if he has ever eaten a meal that was prepared with great care. Last time I went to visit him all the shelves had been removed from his refridgerator to accomodate a plastacine sculpture of a naked girl. There was a bag of stale McDonalds french fries shoved behind the statue and a door rack full of gluey, discolored conidments. I tried to throw the fries away but was greatly protested. He heated them in the conventional oven and ate them with the thickened door sauces. He never was well cared for. I was never up to the job, even back when I wanted to be.

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