How insecure am I?
No, I don't mean the fact that I won't sit here in the dawning morn without a pistol near to hand
I mean that I won't be in here without paper to scribble on
Knew I was out (of paper) and grabbed a paper bag before warming the ring
And I got nothing to say
Okay - I know - the bag is worth, was worth, a dime off today's grocery bill
And it can be reused thusly until the bottom drops out
But not now
So I've blown a dollar to get in two cents
Doesn't look like I will ever make a nickel on this writing gag
I've done dumber things
And this one don't leave scars
Through the smoke and fog there comes a form ... shape shifting ... could this be the Future?