fictoid: I know we are but what are you
The circus parade came to a full stop when Oscar halted his giraffe unicycle to peer in through a second story window. “Holy cow, wouldja look at this!”
Margot, the nimble tightrope walker, ran up a telephone pole guy line then walked along the phone line to peer in as well. “Now there is something you don’t see every day!” She yelled down to the lead clown: “Ferdinand! Come up and take a look at this.”
Ferdinand’s head shot up on his accordion neck. “Well, I’ll be damned. Last time I saw anything approaching that was in a Barnes & Noble in Bangkok. Spring of ’87 -- no, ’86.”
By now the spectators on the sidewalks were yelling and hollering: “Stop peeking in windows! Respect their privacy!”
“Oh, yeah, like you don’t gawk at us,” said Margot.
“Well, it’s your job for us to look at you, to gaze on you superciliously with mockery and contempt for our own amusement,” one of the philosophers in the crowd said.
“And it’s your job for us to look at you with mockery and contempt for our own amusement,” Ferdinand said. “The only difference is, we know it.”
text © Buzz Dixon