Punsecker's Promise: Are You On Board?

 

Mr Faralu Punsecker has promised to give our people several moments to gather themselves under his tree while waiting to see whether word will come. As they intermittently traded comments to the effect that this seemed a bit unusual, I made my way through to help a woman lift her arms to adjust a seasonal hat. Constructed with oatstraw witten, it provides a corner from which a person is expected to repel inelegant sound. Only the sight of a mauve tusket is sufficient to engage the attentions of the ravaged few who stood in line near a door to our tropical problem. I asked the first one if he would mind sleeping on the other side of a field which has been owned by my family for a week or two. He gently took my hand, licked his lips, withdrew a toothpick from his trousers and insisted that he'd never met me before. I knew this wasn't true since I met his niece at a soccer match in the Old South. He denied ever having a niece and pushed me into a box of standard fare. I no longer felt that I was getting the best of him. It was now certain that my flight would be cancelled. I stroked my forearm in dismay. This was not what I'd hoped for when I set out from Chicago, Kansas in the years before the current decade.

The triumph of our swiftest critter has conferred hope on an already maladjusted swinger's mate named Horace Fremson. He spends his time puttering with friends in a garage he shares with my former Uncle, John Lambit. I laugh when I see him coming through our foyer because, whatever else may be said, this is no forceful interloper that we have on our hands here. Far from it, in fact. What we must figure out is how to deal with, is a definite decline in the granularity of our aversions, to the point where Senior Physicians are asking to be released from long term rentals in a resort area named after a very well known person. You can almost hear them whispering among themselves if the wind is just right. If not, you'll just have to do yourself a favor and imagine it sneaking up on you in your spare time while trying to keep your name out of the papers. The trouble is, most folks would prefer to forget that they ever had a problem in the first place. That's why they can never speak fast enough when you inquire about what they are considering doing in their 'golden years'. It isn't enough to provide flashing lights and blunt objects if you fear an incident. No. You've got to ride this thing all the way out to sea and back if needs be. No one needs to hear that. Especially at this time of year. You'll see.

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