excerpt from a run-on sentence


, so he left, closing the door behind him, and went into the other room and

turned on the TV, searching for some mindless wreck of a show, but instead

landed on some nature show on public access, being drawn in by the sight of

two birds circling around one another in mid-air, furiously

clawing and pecking at each other, obviously fighting over

something, and each one’s peck seemed to be perfectly dodged, perfectly

countered by the other’s flying parry, and the two were locking claws and

spiraling toward the impatient unforgiving earth and he had the slightest natural

inclination to warn them but obviously he knew it wasn’t live and they couldn’t have

heard him if it was, but it still didn’t seem that anything could be

important enough that both were willing to smash into sun-burnt stone,

so engrossed in their struggle that they were completely oblivious to

death’s uprushing inevitability, but since he had missed the

beginning of the show it was impossible to tell why any of this was happening,

because if there was a narrator he had yet to explain it,


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