14 - 10 - 06

Kilkauff precipitately trimmed the hedges with shears, as with haste the towering tufts of bush fell to recline on the sidewalk, leaving angled rents in each strand of hedge in lines arranged like a game of pick-up sticks. Coterminous with the curb, the side-view mirror of his car protruded over the sidewalk, though Kilkauff never really owned a car in his life. It will only lead to a rent in the shroud of time blanketing Kilkauff's memory and occluding the eyeball of his thoughts precipitately following the gaze along the sharp shear edge finely rusted (browned) with tiny lancets and spears of grass matter. How did Kilkauff finally come to terms with Kant? The Critique of Pure Reason was on his mind after days and hours in his study where he pondered why he did not own a car, especially when he had a garage. His wife looked on in wonder and longingly desired a car to take groceries in rather than that contraption on wheels, like a tall wicker basket, only made of widely spaced rectangular mesh. Two parts came down in poles with plastic caps so that opposite the two wheels could be tilted back and come to rest with brown grocery bags full of groceries could then be unloaded, like gunnysacks with an exoskeleton, though the cicadas had already emerged and were singing their lisping song high in the branches of the elms that had not succumbed to the Dutch elm disease yet. Kilkauff began to perspire profusely, what with the humidity high there was no legitimacy in the endeavor to tar the driveway since it was mere gravel between two flat rails of cement where a car could have parked for fear he might ever get one, the wife's needling voice chewing at its chaw of tobacco in the rear-view mirror of his mind coining phrases that taunted him exceedingly with atonement and upbraiding.

31/3/08

Kilkauff was constantly put off by the obstinacy of his procrastination, much to his amusement & bemusement. He dropped the hedge clippers and walked up the street, Kenworth Avenue, as much as to say to his wife, screw you, unfathomable bitch. He clenched his teeth and proverbially set his jaw against the humidity. What was in his damn craw?! As much as to say there wasn't any categorical imperative, whatever that was. That blankety-blank transcendental ego had him .