13 minutes is such a discreet value. i want to type something out in 13 minutes, which can seem like a long time, or a really short time. i mean, if i sit here and stare and think a bout what i want to write, then that’s probably 2 minutes. that’s a sixth of the time i want to dedicate to this, wasted in some spacing off time, or adjusting my mp3 player because i can’t listen to NPR and blog at the same time.

but lo, i don’t need to really think of anything towrite, i’m just going to go to wikipedia. i realize this whole crusade is rather stupid, but what the hell, this is my corner of the internet.

Today’s entry: Krasnensky

This particular place is a province of russia. what province you might ask? well, it could be a village or a district, depending on how you frame it. i know nothing about this district, or this town, so maybe i’ll write a little story about it. i imagine reflecting on something with no knowledge on what you are reflecting on would be detrimental to any understanding, but i think that’s presumptuous of me. anyways, 4 minutes to go, here’s a story.

A boy walked out of the local market carrying 3 heads of cabbage and a chicken, which was going to be tonight’s dinner. he brought them home and gave them to his mother, who bemed with pride.

“so much responsibility for a 6 year old. and so handsome too! now go read and i’ll tell you when it’s time to wash up for dinner”

he started his journey upstairs to read, but tripped over the bad step that had been on the staircase as long as he’d been alive. he fell backwards down the stairs breaking a few vertebrae, and felt the terrifying sensation of being unable to move or feel his legs.

he then realized that even being a handsome and responsible 6 year-old did not make him invulnerable to the twists of fate, and that it could always swoop in and change his life forever.

the boy had learned a valuable lesson.

the end.

war and peace, this is not.