it is still wednesday, there.
wednesday is garbage day.
i have thrown it out and in the morning of a new day, a thursday, men who exist only insofar as their function will take it away and it will be as irretrievably gone as would be a winning lottery ticket accidentally discarded with the kitchen scraps.
the end of the calendar manifest in a calendar year full of endings. and consequent beginnings.
the question, i guess, is what will end and what will begin today?
deep down, do i really want a truly great story? i must.
it feels like last year, but that shouldn't surprise me.
almayer rested his eyes on him as if he saw him for the first time.
"two men," he said thickly. the effort of speaking seemed to interfere with his equilibrium. he took a quick step to save himself from a fall, and remained swaying backwards and forwards. "two men," he began again, speaking with difficulty. "two white men--men in uniform--honourable men. i want to say--men of honour. are you?"
"come! none of that," said the officer impatiently. "let us have that friend of yours."
"what do you think i am?" asked almayer, fiercely.
"when is her birthday, jellia?" asked the girl.
"day after to-morrow, your highness."
"and where's the scarecrow?"
"he's gone into the munchkin country to get some fresh straw to stuff himself with, in honor of ozma's celebration," replied the maid. "he returns to the emerald city to-morrow, he said."
by this time, tok-tok, the tin woodman, and the shaggy man had arrived and the chariot had gone around to the back of the palace, billina going with the lion and tiger to see her chickens after her absence from them. but toto stayed close beside dorothy.
locrine. sayest thou so, estrild, beauty's paragon? well, we will try her choler to the proof, and make her know, locrine can brook no braves. march on, assarachus; thou must lead the way, and bring us to their proud pavilion.
act v. scene iv. the field of battle.
[enter the ghost of corineius, with thunder and lightening.]
behold, the circuit of the azure sky
throws forth sad throbs and grievous suspires,
prejudicating locrine's overthrow.
the fire casteth forth sharp darts of flames,
the great foundation of the triple world
trembleth and quaketh with a mighty noise,
presaging bloody massacres at hand.
the wandering birds that flutter in the dark,
when hellish night, in cloudy chariot seated,
casteth her mists on shady tellus' face,
with sable mantles covering all the earth,
now flies abroad amid the cheerful day,
foretelling some unwonted misery.
the snarling curs of darkened tartarus,
sent from avernus' ponds by radamanth,
with howling ditties pester every wood.
the watery ladies and the lightfoot fawns,
and all the rabble of the woody nymphs,
all trembling hide themselves in shady groves,
and shroud themselves in hideous hollow pits.
the boisterous boreas thundreth forth revenge;
the stony rocks cry out on sharp revenge;
the thorny bush pronounceth dire revenge.