i have concluded . . . have i concluded?

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           There I was, waltzing down an alley, aimless. That is, I and my fellow echidna were. Graffitied across the walls of the alley that engulfed us were racial slurs, and threats. Were I in company of an intelligible creature, perhaps I would have been offended. On my own, with opinions unable to leave me, forced to roam in corridors of my mind, indifference swept over me.



            My fellow echidna made a noise I could not interpret. It seemed positive. This could have been an expression of pain, for all I knew. I was left only to my perceptions and assumptions, which infused, to create the reality of a positive sound. I returned with an equally enigmatic noise. The idea of the sound came from no where. It sprung from the emptiness between structured thought. Creation did not rely on what was already known. Freshness is important. We would not want anything spoiled, now. I stood, catatonic.



            "Are you alright, there?" broke a solemn moment, inquired by an elderly man wearing a light turquoise sweater, who had happened to be strolling past our alley.



            "Maagtuzz, shilzer vok," I initially replied, unrealizing at first the man's ability to comprehend me. "Yes. I'm well and fine here, just taking a walk with my fellow echidna. Everything is fine, fine, fine . . ."



            The man went on his way responsless, stepped toward and went inside a nearby pastry shop. My eyes held on fast to where his feet had just left. One foot in front of the other, I examined and studied to myself. Well, of course one foot in front of the other, I rethought. I felt, all day through, as though I had not discerned anything. The day had been a long one of wading through waist deep water, water of disinterest and disaccomplishment.



            My echidna looked up toward me and hung open it's mouth, and noise-made. Smirking down upon it, I began to kneel. As my kneeling brought me down close enough to brush its spiny exterior, as I had planned to, it recoiled into a small circular mass of an organism. Its long cylindrical snout was hidden, and no longer could I hear its music. I began humming Auld Lang Syne to myself, as I admired the concrete beneath us.



       The last thoughts I had before I went unconscious, were if the turquoise sweatered man would think of my fellow echidna and I as he ate his apple turnover, and that the concrete felt cool against my flesh.

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