Tuesday, December 14, 2004


i was afraid the door might fly open as we drove.

me: is your door locked?
sister: yeah.
me: door locked. door locked. dooooorlock.
sister: doorlock. warlock.
me: things sound tougher, more metal, when they end in lock.
sister: matlock?
me: no...not him.

today i'm fascinated by the n0nsense quality of certain words when repeated. milk was my favorite when i was wee. roll the l and it begins to lose its shape. my father confessed his was only. and he began to spell it olny. sister's is of.


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