A man, a fancy one indeed, had the most prestige and clean mansion. Everything was so early white, not a speck of debree to be found. Even his garbage was neat and smelled of lavender. This man turned to his trash bin and stared. He thought, garbage is no name for the beauty of a bucket before him. He decided it needed a new name. Garboolie. A fancy name for a fancy can....
He walks around like he owns the world, like the sphere sits in the palm of his hand. He walks into a new town every week, gets what he desires, then leaves. No one knows why he arrives, nor why he leaves so quickly; but everyone noticed. He would buy the more peculiar things, a flower pot, a plastic bin, a dog leash; nothing he bought ever had any correlation. He would waltz into each store and s...
