If Life Was Really Like Seinfeld

He sat at the table.

The ghost of a normal well adjusted man.

He walked over to where the milk was being kept. Inside the kitten consequently. He poured it with the grace of a swan, cleaning itself in a shallow pond.

Outward he looked, through the french doors and down the hallway. His suspicions were confirmed. He was still sleeping, for only inside a dream could there be a barren wasteland of dead plant life and decrepit architecture.

"Serves us right" Erich said.

Erich walked out of his house, seeing as his kitchen wall had just recently melted away in to the recesses of his consciousness.

A galant stroll ensued outside of his backyard which now resembled a very picturesque Monet painting he had bought the night before. He looked in the pool of water that was made up of dabs of rain and he proceeded to pick away each drop until all that was left was the canvas. Erich fell through the canvas and arrived at a cascade of lumped peanut butter, the batter of the man slowly dripped through the strainer that had arrived near the head board of his mind. Fearing the impending wrath being nearer then expected Erich concoted a brilliant assortment of colors next to his fingers with which to repaint the canvas be brought back to the surface of his dream.

Once there he galantly shouted:

"HOW? THE ALMIGHTY MUST ANSWER FORTHWITH!"

His watch broke and so did his water. He woke up in a pool of urine.


~Love, Ryan