“A horse is a horse, of course of course, and this one will talk ‘til his voice is hoarse. You’ve never heard of a talking horse? Well, listen to Mister Ed.”
I sure would like to meet Mister Ed, thought Blurtso. Maybe I should take a trip to Hollywood…
“Third boxcar, midnight train, heading west from Bangor, Maine. Grey donkey with worn-out hooves, I don’t pay for a thing I use, I’m a burro of means by no means, king of the road…”
Hmmm, thought Blurtso, another paperclip. You go months and months without seeing one, then you see them everywhere you turn. I wonder if they’re being discarded as the world goes paperless? And soon they will only be a symbol, an icon for attachments, virtual clips attaching virtual expressions in a virtual world… like so many other forms of attachment.
And they came from near and they came from far,
bearing gifts of frankincense, myrrh, and pumpkin pie.