Shit I Wrote When I Woke Up, Pt. 2

Posted 2/25/2009 by WHayes in Labels: , , , , ,
I had a dream last night where I was riding in the back of an AT-AT (trying to keep my balance on a jump-seat way too small for my weight), reading a book Kant never wrote called "Paris, 1988." In it, a German man has a flashback to the one time he met Hitler: the dictator had come to his store -- a secret excursion to peruse his country -- for a bottle of wine, and paused for a moment to reflect on the wooden rocking horse outside the store window.

Hitler said he had a rocking horse once; it was beaten, broken, and couldn't rock very fast, and whenever you would sit on it, it would give you splinters. Nevertheless, he loved that horse, so he made it his goal to put it back together. He worked on it tirelessly, day and night, until one day, it was the most wonderful rocking horse in all the land, stronger, faster, and more beautiful than all those around.

It brought a tear to the shopkeepers eye. For a moment he understood der Fuhrers quest. The AT-AT stumbled over a bump, sending me down the aisle where I finally realized the entire cargo hold had been converted into what looked like a 787 passenger plane. There weren't many other passengers.


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