Feign the Large Harvester’s Running Water Gag
For some
reason her boots obscured just how, well, I hesitate to call her “fat” because
that would probably plant a vision of a rolling landscape of obesity in your
mind. Perhaps “stout” best describes her
condition. As she climbed down from her
tractor I noticed that her boots were adorned with round, silver studs along
the sides. I’m sure that she had added
these to the boots to give them extra diversionary power.
“Did you
use some kind of clamp?” I asked her later over a selection of items grown in
that very field (a rolling landscape of unity threatening to engulf our tiny
planet).
The tractor
was new. By fixating on it I was able to
reason through the drug’s lies.
“You’re
ruining the trip,” she said.
After all,
if the tractor hadn’t been here before, this scene, this moment,
could not be the same one, the same one that threatened to engulf me before.
“I’ll take
off my boots,” she… threatened?
Offered? Tempted? She was attractive in some inexplicable,
stout way. I liked her better when she
was wearing her glasses, however. They
reminded me of those octagonal ones that the creepy doll on A Family Affair used to wear. I don’t know if you remember, but Sebastian
Cabot’s character, Mr. Belvedere, and the doll, Mrs. Beasley (played by Hairy
Hotstuff in her unmarried state), ran off together and started a farm. They raised a crop of one giant fungus that
connected everything in a horrible, inescapable web of timelessness.
.
