From a restless night, I give you "Lost in Loogootee."
Dark. Dreary. Wandering, aimlessly, streets lit by dull street post lamps. Somewhere unpronounceable. Oolitic? Dressed not in the vibrant colors of the Reds, but, muted grays of fandom. On the road to Perdition? Or assigned to Purgatory? A dream-like state, only a copy of essays by Karl Barth to stimulate the mind in this endless maze of unconsciousness. Up hills, around corners, knees ache disturbing the reality of two realms. A black and white episode of “The Twilight Zone”? No, merely lost in Loogootee.
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