Atlas

He is an elementary school globe, tipped slightly on its axis, trying to keep himself from teetering and/or tottering when he stands and grasps the pole in anticipation of exiting the bus. He tries to appear as if he’s not struggling, but the sweat beading his hairline high atop his head and between his multiple chins belies this.
His arms are too short for his body, or perhaps only seem that way, given that his enormous girth prevents them from dangling by his sides. The hands are surprisingly small, pivoting on the most delicate of wrists.
I cannot bear his burden.

0 thoughts on “Atlas

  1. Snoopy did this same thing on our livingroom floor last week. Linus assures me it didn’t taste as good as it looks.
    AARRRRRGH!!!

  2. Pardon me while I puke on my keyboard.
    Living in San Antonio, the capital of TexMex cuisine, the thought of a sweet potato burrito with tofu sour cream makes me want to claw the “chef’s” eyes out.
    It’s like making kugel with graham crackers.

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