Sasquatch Musings of the Day.

From Sharma Shields' The Sasquatch Hunter's Almanac, one of my new favorites:

Sentence of the Day:

"He considered rising and taking up the papers in the living room, but the idea of moving even one inch exhausted him, and so he merely tucked his chin down and fell asleep there, sitting up, as he did sometimes, his plate so clean before him that his last thought was that he could go swimming in it and how refreshing it would be to swim into the milk-white ceramic, like pushing through the supple, supportive fabric of the moon."

Passage of the Day (*regarding the explosion of Mount Saint Helens in 1980):

"A reporter on the news program began to list the names of people missing or killed by the lava flow. Eli went and sat beside Ginger's knees and listened. There was an octogenarian who refused to leave his lodge in the woods. He wanted to die right there where he'd always lived, and so he did.

Eli thought about the man and his lodge. He imagined the roar of the explosion, the interminable wait. Would the man just sit patiently in his chair, maybe shuffling an old deck of cards, or would he go and stand and face the mountain? Would he pace back and forth on his porch, only to begin to suffer regret as hot mud filled his shoes? Was he stubborn or silly or idealistic or noble or all of it or none?

What would I do? Eli wondered, safe and sound in his comfortable home, with his kindly daughter stirring lazily beside him on the couch. What would I do with that last hot, excruciating minute?"