Choices
Contributed by MuppetMan
on Sunday, 8th December 2013 @ 01:28:02 AM AEST
Topic:
fictiongeneral
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I feel as though I am a doormat, I am just one that people step on to brush away stuff that clings to the bottom of their shoes or even bare feet.
Come inside, welcome welcome say I greeting them, or hope you had a nice stay, I say as they leave.
I consider this to be an achievement on my own behalf. I've built in these sensors that can tell a bit about bionomics, the kind they utilize to study the soil on Mars. I've carefully crafted lattices within each fiber, actually embedded pressure-sensing light-emitting transducers to monitor arterial blood flow,
just so I know, how you're feeling when you enter or if you're about to have a heart attack, or maybe have high blood sugar or have to maybe go real bad whereever, but you have to go real bad just the same
I sing, as a doormat should, hello hello, in staccato grunt vocalizations mimicking, all the time it's the happenstance of mimicking since there are no two ways of arbitrarily judging a small life form from a large one in any relative way .
I am a doormat. Welcome I say. Like a free press only absolutely free.
And yes, I'm full of mud. All the crud you wish you could forget but can't.
Peace!
Copyright © MuppetMan
... [2013-12-0801:28:02]
(Date/Time posted on site)
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