Somewhere to play.

A true story, based on lies ...

The beginning of a story which was never even thought of, was never supposed to be, yet happened, this is it.

Most people live a lie. There is the perfect lie, the perfect life, the perfect everything, all ending in an aura of the perfect imperfection.

Yesterday, this person, a political bigwig, who objected strongly to a group of students, they apparently used the 'salute' of the Third Reich for some reason.
He hotly took them to task - rightly so (?) - and while he took them on, he was saluting with the clenched fist of his creed - rightly so (?).
And in the privacy of my being, my salute would have been the V for Victory sign - I can never remember which direction the backhand should face.
Freedom ...

At the close off of a story, it can be decided, should it be open ended; that is - close off with a question mark, exit with a bang, or use an anticlimax.
Whichever way, an author can play around with the story.
In real time, in real life, it will be as it is and most will have no say in the matter.
The only offer one will have is - what did one leave behind ?

Brown, as in white and brown is the color of the Basset, and along side him, his trusty mate, the Sheepdog dressed in black and white ---
Yes, they are back.
It must be a bad day at the ranch if even the dogs run away.

Now I am assuming again, I do this far too frequently, this assuming thing.
Who said assume is about an ass, you, and me ?

My neighbors dogs have taken a shine to me - no - I did not offer them a bone, scratched their backs, or even promised them any delight of any kind.
Yet - here they are again, and still hoping for something.
The Ark is full, there is no more place, how did Noah feel about the situation ?

Then I went to oogle google about the name for my story, lo and behold, it was already taken.
There is not much new under the sun and still, new things are found every day.