The Marsh
5/16/05
She was crying because he was gone. He had left that morning, at five past 7:00, for the marsh. The Marsh. Where he belonged, he said. No one belongs in a marsh, she cried. But he left anyway.
How are you going to survive? she murmured. I'll eat the alligators, he said.
What about the mosquitos? she inquired. I'll eat those too, don't worry 'bout me, he said.
How are you going to catch the alligators? she sighed. With a net, made of human hair, he said.
When are you coming back? she weeped. Maybe never, he asid.
Why are you leaving? she despaired. Because of you, he said.
I need to get away.
So Stu began the long trek to the marsh, barefoot, no supplies but his shirt and pants, no longing gaze at his house, his wife, no turning back. On to the marsh.
She was crying because he was gone. He had left that morning, at five past 7:00, for the marsh. The Marsh. Where he belonged, he said. No one belongs in a marsh, she cried. But he left anyway.
How are you going to survive? she murmured. I'll eat the alligators, he said.
What about the mosquitos? she inquired. I'll eat those too, don't worry 'bout me, he said.
How are you going to catch the alligators? she sighed. With a net, made of human hair, he said.
When are you coming back? she weeped. Maybe never, he asid.
Why are you leaving? she despaired. Because of you, he said.
I need to get away.
So Stu began the long trek to the marsh, barefoot, no supplies but his shirt and pants, no longing gaze at his house, his wife, no turning back. On to the marsh.
posted by Rosie Cotton | 12:04 PM
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