13,134. HENRY STRANGE AND BILLY FALSEHOOD

HENRY STRANGE AND BILLY FALSEHOOD

With their angle-irons poised, the two gents

were arguing at the precipice to a gigantic fault,

while the great drop below them gurgled. I saw

that others were watching, yet I could not grasp

the language they spoke. Some horrible smoke

was rising up from the littered abyss. 

-

One of them went first, as I realized I couldn't

tell them apart anyway  -  and just then they were

drowned out, momentarily, by the township street

sweeper, driven by Henry Sparks, a local guy from

down my street.

-

I waved my hand to Henry, who stopped. 'What

gives, and what do you know?' I asked him.

'Confetti,' he replied, 'It's all just confetti and 

noise. A guy down the road stabbed a lady in

neck, and another Tweedle-Dum jumped off

the Driscoll Bridge.' Henry seems always to

know most everything.

-

He's a real gem like that; but those other two

guys, still arguing, had now taken down the

streetlamps and were ripping up the pavement.

'Uh-oh,' said Henry, 'Here it goes again. It
always seems to start as nothing but ends
up a complete and total mess. I've got so
much to do, and my hands are full; I hope

this machine keeps running.'
-
What did he care, really, I thought, these

township guys have it made. If the sweeper
broke town, the town garage would fix it,

in a day or two  -  or just give him another
heap to drive. Six men around metal, like

bees at a hive. 
-
Back at the top, Billy Strange and Henry
Falsehood were still railing at each other.