I was wrong.
Apr. 21st, 2003 08:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icecreamemperorHardly an hour later and the sun is breaking through in force. Good thing I wasn't going to sleep, anyways.
But since I'm not, here's the beginning of my current essay:
Six chickens in Sweden straddled the ash tree's shadow, conversing about Death. They were the only survivors of a four-car pileup -- the truck carrying them to the market was the first to go. Eggs rolled lazily across the highway pavement in bowlegged procession.
"A blesseeng oor a coorse-a? I sey it's zee yulk -- zee spece-a in zee meeddle-a. Deet is un intereeur ixpereeence-a, vheech is nu lunger ellooeble-a. Suceeety is thruoogh veet intereeur ixpereeences. Bork Bork Bork!" said the first chicken, watching the smoke from the wreckage limp into the sky.
The second chicken was not convinced. "Dun't be-a su rumunteec. Deet is a cunstrooct, a pune-a ooff gless betveee zee creeminel und zee feesitur. Zee preeest und zee cunffessur. It's a treeck, tu keep zee fueed deestunt. Bork Bork Bork!"
"Bork!" cried three of the other chickens, with mixed enthusiasm. "Bork bork bork!" It was impossible to tell if they were agreeing or disagreeing: their feathers were singed and in some places falling off.
The fourth chicken watched the eggs cross the fourth lane of traffic. He had sad eyes, chicken-sad.
--
I think it's coming along pretty well.
But since I'm not, here's the beginning of my current essay:
Six chickens in Sweden straddled the ash tree's shadow, conversing about Death. They were the only survivors of a four-car pileup -- the truck carrying them to the market was the first to go. Eggs rolled lazily across the highway pavement in bowlegged procession.
"A blesseeng oor a coorse-a? I sey it's zee yulk -- zee spece-a in zee meeddle-a. Deet is un intereeur ixpereeence-a, vheech is nu lunger ellooeble-a. Suceeety is thruoogh veet intereeur ixpereeences. Bork Bork Bork!" said the first chicken, watching the smoke from the wreckage limp into the sky.
The second chicken was not convinced. "Dun't be-a su rumunteec. Deet is a cunstrooct, a pune-a ooff gless betveee zee creeminel und zee feesitur. Zee preeest und zee cunffessur. It's a treeck, tu keep zee fueed deestunt. Bork Bork Bork!"
"Bork!" cried three of the other chickens, with mixed enthusiasm. "Bork bork bork!" It was impossible to tell if they were agreeing or disagreeing: their feathers were singed and in some places falling off.
The fourth chicken watched the eggs cross the fourth lane of traffic. He had sad eyes, chicken-sad.
--
I think it's coming along pretty well.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hee, hee
Date: 2003-04-21 07:01 am (UTC)-brooke
no subject
Date: 2003-04-21 08:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-21 11:36 am (UTC)An obscure masterpiece of comic timing and metaphysical sleight-of-hand.
no subject
Date: 2003-04-21 10:04 am (UTC)am I right?
This isn't the kind of essay that comes with footnotes, hunh?
The chickens sound like the Swedish Chef, which is interesting-ah bork bork bork.