CRASH BLOSSOMS

It was a town like florida in the fifties, buildings eight stories high, except for a few ten stories and one fifteen right in the center of town.

The whole place sparkled with clarity. Everyone was wearing colorful clothes. People drank coca colas through straws on the street corners. Men were gliding in gliders above the streets, turning corners between the buildings and soaring up alleyways.

It was unbelievable.

I said, “Hey, how do those guys soar around the city like that. It all looks too good. Why don’t they crash into the buidings?”

Just then, one of the gliders crashed into the fifteen story building in the center of town. The man tumbling head over heels through the air like some sort of wounded superman. He tumbled dead towards me.

With me on the parking lot were a young couple, They were walking together in conversation, looking up, they noticed the tumbling man. He fell on top of them making a sluggish sound on the pavement.

Off to the side of the three dead bodies I noticed a baby wrapped in a pretty red blanket. I picked up the child and put it (I don’t remember if it was a boy or girl) in a car parked on the street.

A crowd was gathering around the parking lot.

A beautiful lady came towards me on the street. She looked inside the parked car. “That’s my baby in there” she said. “No,” I said, “This baby belongs to that dead couple on the parking lot. “No, You’re wrong,” she said, “what happened to them?”

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