Poofy Froofy Volume 4
Index

| Number 1 |   | Number 2 |   | Number 3 |   | Number 4 |   | Number 5 |  
| Number 6 |   | Number 7 |   | Number 8 |   | Number 9 |  


Poofy Froofy Vol 4 No 4 (not always funny) May 10,1999

May 10,1999

**Notes from Aboveground**

Day 1

It is unimaginably hot today. It is hard to fathom what the jews are wearing! That is some religion to survive so much sweating. Too hot.

Day 5

The weather has taken a turn. The air is no longer thick as lead with stifling heat, the clouds no longer gather at mid-afternoon to entice with a shower but only to deliver a searing drizzle. This change has not helped. The skies mock me with blue and white sunshine, people pass in the street and shout, "What a fabulous day, yes?". It sends rivulets of pain and horror through my brain as my hand shoots out, deperately clutching for something, anything, to throw. Give me rain, give me heat! Anything but the dullness and tedium of "nice weather"!

Day 14

The rain has come. It does not cheer me. I long only for change, for variety, for the new, the different. Delilah came again today but brought none of her usual brightness. Had she been bright I would only have wished her ill, anything but what is. I want only what is not. She left meager provisions to last me the coming weeks. If only I last that long.

Day 17(?)

I must go back down! The burning of the sky, the thundering of rain on the window panes. It is all too much! It is a battle of will. I must not buckle. My will must defeat my nature, I must remain, I must see it through. It is the only way. If I cannot persist, all will be lost.

Day 23

They have come! The waiting is over! Just as I truly believed they never would, they arrived. No longer will I have to remain here, scorched by the sun and the rain and the darkness. No longer will I have to live in this chair, no longer feel the pain of dashed hopes as Delilah's pathetic knock sends my spirit soaring with anticipation, only to be dashed with the sight of her damnable form through the peephole. I am free. I can return. I have not missed too much, as I feared I would. It can be recouped. It must be. Bailey is waiting.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
--Subtitle for this piece, "Three weeks, No cable"
(This is version 2. I lost the first one when my browser crashed. Very disappointing because it had much better adjectives. Shit.)


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