Just before I succumbed to the long sleep, I’d wish for cartoon physics…so running off the cliff leaves us hanging until we look down, and falling we whistle in the air; so smells are visible in wavy lines and cars whoosh past with speed lines; so cats are foiled in their scheming and mice are smart; so hunters talk like babies and all guns are springloaded with signs that say “Bang!”; so Amazon is replaced by the mail-order monopoly ACME, which doesn’t ship with cardboard boxes but massive pine crates; so strapping oneself to an enormous firecracker seems like a good idea at the time, as does catapulting a boulder, as does boarding up the windows and doors before checking to see who else might be inside. And whenever we’re lost it will be because we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. And then, moments after I’m buried, I will be able to dig myself back out in a fury like The Tasmanian Devil, and declare, “Why you put me in the cold, cold gound?!”
John Minichillo wrote The Snow Whale, and you need to read it.
so smells are visible in wavy lines