Time passed as time could only pass for a dog, by which I mean a cluster of instants passing not at all then all at once as if someone had rear-ended a long procession of stationary moments pushing them into his attention; one into the next with a crash and progressively-forward. The second car departed, stinking of ozone and carbon monoxide but unheard. A dog's world is by the nose, an utterly non-temporal instrument making this how Warren perceived the passing of time lazing on the floor as Karen didn't carry-on her morning routine. Warren smelled:
- squirrel
- cat
- another cat
- the glorious aromas of his own secondary issues, five or six distinct ones.
- the delicious stink of a dead opossum baking in the early-morning sun on a stretch of asphalt a half-mile away
- the lingering floral-fecal notes of Bill's anus which had either just departed several instants ago or nearly 40 minutes ago depending upon your conceptualization of temporal-reality
Warren pondered his laziness and food...chipmunks danced on the porch out of reach on the far-side of the glass French doors instantly grabbing his attention before losing it immediately once out of sight...and laziness *chipmunk!* and licking the scar where his dog-eggs *chipmunk!* once resided and laziness all at once. Stretching out his hind *chipmunk!* legs Warren ambled *chipmunk!**chipmunk!* to the food dish to find it disappointingly *chipmunk!* unfilled as Karen filled it and was yet to be seen though Warren smelled *chipmunk!* her, knew she was home and not filling his food. Warren returned to his laying spot on the floor just in time to feel the departure of the third car in the fur on his tummy vibrating against the linoleum. As it passed the window directly in front of Karen's bus, Karen appeared.
..... (PASS).....
= new reply since forum marked as read