I got down on my knees and smelled the new linoleum.
In. Hold it just a bit.
Oh, that's heavenly.
That's the definitive smell of the first new house in the history of the Lapierres. No more tenements, no more trailers. No...
no no no
I got down on my knees and smelled the new linoleum. Yeah, it smelled okay. The bleach wasn't too bad. Nothing to cause suspicion.
Then I scuffed it up a bit with my boots. And spilled a few drops of old coffee and spread that around.
Nobody'd know the lino was new.
Nah, nobody'd think.
After I did Guido with the carving knife there was just so much blood I couldn't get the old lino clean. Not clean enough for cops. So out it went.
Nah, out it goes.
I got down on my knees and smelled the new linoleum. Breathed in the emanations of purple and swirling orange. I wouldn't hold still Jumping out at me Falling way way back it smells like a big blinking neon light. Maybe I took too many of those pink pills maybe there are some more of those neat yellow ones left. No blue ones, no
I got down on my knees and smelled the new linoleum. It didn't smell like anything at all. Just like plastic.
MaryLou said hers smelled like strawberries, and it had little strawberry plants printed on it. Ours was just plain. Maybe that's what beige smells like.
I got down on my knees and smelled the new linoleum. Hmm. The students twiddled their pens and looked up to the ceiling for inspiration. The waterspots on the acoustical tiles had spoken to them before... perhaps they would happen again. Oh, Waterspot Gods we offer you these blank pages. Take these offerings as thine own, that we may have something, anything, by the end of class.
This week's bus driver is Barbara, and you can catch a ride here!
above . . . and below
8 hours ago