Oh Good God
Thursday, August 20, 2009
On my night walk with J, a tradition we have started after dinner, we came across a dead squirrel that had been run over by a car. I took out my lighter and held a small vigil for it. Though the vigil was short lived. Once I lit a flame the squirrel's figure could be seen, and it was ghastly, to say the least. It had been sawed in half by the tire of a small car. What is more was that its innards had been pressed out of its mouth, tearing the skin at the lips, like an overstuffed tube of toothpaste.
That is how I felt when I read this: http://theater2.nytimes.com/2009/08/06/theater/reviews/06slipping.html?ex=1265774400&en=0137d902ee299cde&ei=5087&WT.mc_id=TH-D-I-NYT-MOD-MOD-M110-ROS-0809-PH&WT.mc_ev=click
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