found drama

We work all night.  We dig ditches and tunnels, pitch tents, put up lean-tos and shanties, stretch out tarps…  Anything to protect ourselves.  There is some scuffling over what exactly is the best approach.  But there isn’t time enough to come up with a perfect plan.  Just a good one.  And we barely make it in time.  The rain comes.  The warm, sticky, creamy rain of alfredo sauce.  And strands of pasta.  And strips of chicken.

About Rob Friesel