baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Escargotohell Today, there was a snail trapped in my living room. And so surefooted was his grip, that not even the heavy-handed sweep of my broom wrestled him from his chosen spot on my hardwood floor. So, I plucked him from what surely would have been a sad grave for any innocent snail, and placed him on my front porch-near the lawn and moist soil (a more fitting home for animals of his ilk or so I thought). Ten minutes later, I walked out the front door, and forgetting that snails travel about 1 millimeter a day, crushed the poor thing. The incident has awoken the fatalist in me. I'm tring to be idealistic, and bright, and shiny, damnit. But, that damn snail won't let me. 9:52 p.m. - 2002-05-23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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