The Road Forward
(Poetic Prose)
I worked for Volunteers of America once (in Minneapolis Minnesota), for several years to be exact, and I tried like hell to get along with the female supervisor, and the male general manager, and the male head counsellor, but I had learned when one does not want merely to sit in a bar, which is simply unbearable, what does he do? So I learned the General Manger, had been thirty years at his profession, and in addition, become an expert breeder of pigs. And the female supervisor, prized her one and only grandchild, spent hours on the phone with him at work, and flying down to Kansas City to see him.
And the head counsellor, fought like cats and dogs with his two boys. When I looked at this clear, so dreadful was the thought that someday I shall be like them, and so I invested in real estate, and became quite rich, and they envied me, because I had settled in life much better, and my christening was, they fired me. “Damn the blast!” I said; they were not all that inspiriting, but lucky I felt: everyone else saluted me with respect.
(Poetic Prose)
I worked for Volunteers of America once (in Minneapolis Minnesota), for several years to be exact, and I tried like hell to get along with the female supervisor, and the male general manager, and the male head counsellor, but I had learned when one does not want merely to sit in a bar, which is simply unbearable, what does he do? So I learned the General Manger, had been thirty years at his profession, and in addition, become an expert breeder of pigs. And the female supervisor, prized her one and only grandchild, spent hours on the phone with him at work, and flying down to Kansas City to see him.
And the head counsellor, fought like cats and dogs with his two boys. When I looked at this clear, so dreadful was the thought that someday I shall be like them, and so I invested in real estate, and became quite rich, and they envied me, because I had settled in life much better, and my christening was, they fired me. “Damn the blast!” I said; they were not all that inspiriting, but lucky I felt: everyone else saluted me with respect.
No: 2707 (5-27-2010
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