From the “I have no mouth yet I must scream” department…
A moment of silence for those poor people who were made…tragically bland. The powers-that-be were not content to make this poor woman simply dull, or forgettable, or “just a face in the crowd.” No, she is so utterly, painfully dull that she doesn’t warrant a face. Or hands.
On the plus side, she did get a lovely dress. It’s made out of the same pure, refined boredom as the rest of her sad little existence—if you want to sculpt something out of “dull” go with a nice, tame putty-color, like pencil erasers left out in the sun. And she recently had her hair done, so points there. But how much of her existence is spent staring at her little stumps, saying “Am I really so blisteringly dull that I don’t even deserve hands?”
She turns her stubs over and over in front of her, staring at them…or would, if she had eyes. Without them—heck, without any sensory input at all—I could imagine her wandering slowly through the pressed masses of humanity, holding her truncated arms before her, hoping that someone will scream, take pity on her, update her wardrobe for the 21st century, or otherwise break the endless expanse of monotony stretching before her, this poor woman, terrifying in her blandness.
From the Salvation Army on South Congress near Ben White. I remember starting this day out thinking of writing a humorous blog entry. What happens to our childhood dreams?