At 10:05 AM 20/03/2007, you wrote:
>You know, I once dreamed I lived in a world where
all
>sorts of kitchen implements were gifted with the
power
>of speech. When I'd smash garlic, the chef's
knife
>would groan with pleasure; when I chopped onions,
it
>would cry along with me. My grandmother's pot
&
>kettle never said a word, though--they were too
proud
>of having passed their years in the proud tradition
of
>silence. Eventually we melted them down & made
them
>into a radio.
Ha! That's cool.
My pot boils and bubbles, while my kettle still whistles,
Kerry
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Literary events Calendar (South Ont.) http://www.lit-electric.com
The evil men do lives after them http://www.murderoutthere.com
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