Having checked around I find that yet again (!) WP has this post on some readers not others! Hence another tedious reblog.
Imprisoned within a shutdown body, limbs but rigid stumps, only mother knew the things that went on inside his head.
“Do you think bears are all mad what with dad bear so prone to scoffing babies of his own kind…you know like that fatal prion malady cannibals get…like mad cows disease?”
Paralysis had not affected his hearing. He neither knew nor cared save for a passing thought that bears may well be the fruit of jumbled loins as he himself might have been, perhaps was, yet he double blinked an affirmative regardless just to keep the old boot happy.
There were times when had he been able to communicate pointedly he would impart the chancy incantation that had come to visit years back and never moved on, ‘God has ways of torture only I know’ – even had a melodic loop to go with it within. Yet that was…
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