Hi, Jack. Oh, hi, Syd. Penny for your thoughts, Jack. Huh? Well, I was thinking about Polly from when we were way back in High School. Crazy times, eh? Polly? Yeah. Polly and I were quite the number senior year. Polly who, Jack? Um-m-m. Polly. Cute, long brown hair, glasses? Oh! Four-eyes Polly, sure I remember her. Four-eyes? Syd, who called her that? Oh, the kids used to tease her in grade school. She was the first in our class to get glasses, you know how kids are. So, you

Everyone likes grilled cheese Especially Monday with its loose pants and stage fright. And Wednesday with its moon goth glow and poison arrow shoved by wind under the cushion of the roadside chair free to a good home that pretends to be a bookmark so the hands that find it, a little scaly with misuse, wonder what page it kept and what happened to the book, is the author buried somewhere in some other cushion and bam, Thursday clatters in, barges but in its sweet, doofus way