For lack of time, or interesting thoughts (as if they are ever interesting), I leave the world today with a short story.

It's non-fiction, and it might be the best thing I've ever written. Enjoy.

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The Play Date

He tore through boxes and boxes of the plastic and die-cast icons of American youth, dumping and spreading the contents across the basement floor. Matchbox here, Hot-Wheels there, and little green army men scattered all between. Methodicly he examined and discarded each item, a dissatisfied scowl ever present on his face. The foot-tall green monster stood watch over the search operation, his grimace etched in plastic and his ambiguous sex flaunted brazenly for all the world to see. Piles of GI-Joes and Cobra Agents lay ready to battle, plastic swords yearning to be wielded and a whole world of both chutes and ladders left unexplored, but still no sign of the elusively small scrap of purple fabric. Preston sighed, frustrated with boredom but Brian was adamant: there would be no fun until the Hulk had pants.