Upon Exiting the Factory

A deep sigh.
A breath of fresh air.
The last dying rays of the late Summer sun.
The last blue of the sky.
The most beautiful sound in the world: Silence.
The sound of the silence of the lack of machines.
The silence only found in a small town.
No Machines!
No shampoo caps endlessly rolling by.
Nothing to suggest the monotony of the inside.
Ah the feeling!
Everything is so much more beautiful 
after 4 hours in a factory.

Written 9-13-1996

The Writing Page

Thou mayest leave a message here which will get to the lord of this realm, via e-mail. You get an odd thought as you stand here: "This is all somehow related to or provided by Geocities."