Article: 288704 of talk.bizarre
From: (Bill Bill)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: dear uberunderling,
Date: 2 Dec 1996 07:57:53 GMT
Organization: wareware
Lines: 35
Message-ID: <57u261$>

dear fruit of my loom,

yeah, i do remember.

i was alive on the day before, with glass all around.
i had drunk water from a bottle, glass so thick it
wouldn't shatter when i threw it against the building.
the boy running the gas pump looked at me sideways,
pretending not to notice.  "I have a hammer in the
shop if you want it," he said.  but light bulbs still
gave their satisfying crunch.

shortly before the sand lost its shape, your mother 
and i built a little house of cards.  you were making
funny noises in the blink machine i'd built, and we
didn't notice you had gotten the lights spinning around
you.  your mother saw it and dropped her eyevids on the
house, sending it to the floor.  you were a faster development
than we'd expected, and we didn't know how to move the
earth right for you.  little did we know.

i still like to pour newglass into cups made of ice.
you can't drink the stuff, but it makes a good splash when
you throw the whole deal against the wall.  thanks for
making that collection trough, so your mom can make the
water sculptures.  too bad she can't make shards.  but
it's a small price to pay, having these feathery bones.
have you tried footrockets yet?

well, good luck testing yourself, and try to stay warm.
watch out for the air; you know how hungry it is.