Luckenbach

Harold walks down the sidewalk and notices that all of the tree branches bend away from him. It confirms his suspicion that the universe knows him to be a singularly despicable person.

There’s something very familiar about the man’s odd gait and how he comports himself. I’m convinced that I know him from somewhere. Then it dawns on me! Mid-nineteenth-century England. He is the reincarnation of my favorite man-servant, Frederick. I hurry over to greet him and exchange email addresses.

Caleb and his tosher mates make a meager living by scavenging the London sewers for valuables. Just yesterday, the trio found three guineas, seven crown coins, and a gold tooth under all the foul-smelling filth. But today, Caleb hits paydirt: a pair of man’s dentures made of hippopotamus ivory. It should fetch almost twenty pounds, provided he can get the stench out.

The giant eyeball on channel 3834 fills the screen of my television. I stare at the oracle in silent contemplation all the while gaining an inner calmness and an increased understanding of my being. I have no doubt I’m in the presence of a divine power. But sometimes, even divineness needs eye drops