2) A fired used-car salesman pawns his mustache to finance fake wood paneling and a dirty aquarium for a future steakhouse. He drinks warm beer at eleven a.m. in an airport lounge. Sky remains blue without the sun.

3) I submit unsolicited car wrecks to the bowling alley. They are accepted and posted in the pro shop. Bowlers sometimes stop to read my work while shopping for new ball bags. I sit by the lanes and eat french fries with ketchup and drink beer. Rod Serling curses my penmanship and corrects my geometry. Sun strikes the thunder.