'Numerically 'Redundant'
A story of redundancy by BuddyBlack.
It was just another day, that day, in the little dusty town of 'Redundant', Texas, the little thir...sty town that sat between yesterday and tomorrow, seemingly never going back, and yet seldom going foreward. It was pretty much a copy of the day before, and quite likely it would be pretty much the same tomorrow as today. There was nothing particularly 'different' about this day, although the locals all agreed that for some reason the desert flowers did seem to smell twice as fragrant that day as any two days before.
A pair of curr dogs, long of ear, and short of energy, one named 'Two', and the other one 'Onemore', were seen lounging like happy tourists in the shade of a nearly empty water tower near the rusted railroad tracks that lead both into, and not surprisingly, out of town. Even though they seemed friendly enough, it was always a good idea to think twice about coming closer than about two feet from their lounge spot, and if you said anything to them at all, you just said, 'good boys, good boys', and then moved on.
On a side spur of the rusted tracks to nowhere, sat the last train, Engine 222, that visited 'Redundant' sometime in the far distant past. Of course there was no one left around that could recall exactly when that was, but most agree that it was most likely around the 22nd of February,1922, an especially chilly day in 'Redundant' with the temperature uncharacteristically hovering at double digits minus zero. There was really no good reason for its arrival, whenever that actually was, and then why afterwards there was even less reason for it to leave. Some locals figured it simply froze in place, and never thawed, and so there it stayed, and no one even thought twice about it again. Some folks even say, 'what train'?
The only bar in town, 'Goody Two Shoes', was the only 'watering hole' around these parts where one could get two shots of 'Snake Eyes' whiskey for the price of one in the winter, but where the price doubled come summer. Even there, things were about the same as the day before. Well, except, it seemed, for one odd difference. On this particularly sun baked day there were two thirsty patrons nestled up to the stand-up bar, and the locals did a double-take to see a pair of obvious twins nursing their drinks. These two waywards would not have stood out anywhere else I suppose, but not only did they look alike, and sound alike, they also dressed alike in their city slicker threads and shiny Buster browns, and they constantly re-told each others stories, more than once it seemed, and they bank rolled their drinks, their favorite being the 'Poets Muse', with a wad of slightly used Two Dollar bills. One of the twins was heard to comment more than once, 'I wouldn't give you two red cents for anything less'. Only the two of them knew exactly what that meant, and no one even thought to ask. Strangely, even though they were 'two chips off the same block', one was twice as good looking as the other, depending on which angle they were seen from, but they certainly made quite the pair in their otherwise sameness. When someone asked for their names, one gave the name 'Duo', and the other as 'Duece'. 'Odd 'handle', someone muttered into their warm beer. 'Well, our Mother was a Mathematician, and our father a Numerologist, and so it logically followed that we would be 'counted' thusly, they explained to no one in particular. The mirror, as big as Texas itself, hanging on the wall behind the bar, captured their double likeness, reflecting it brightly back into the otherwise dark room, and if you looked closely enough you could see them casting a wink at one another as if they'd just told a funny 'inside' joke once again, to their own private amusement.
Outside, the weather was not unusual for the season at hand, hot, dry, lizard gagging dusty, with a slight chance of shade which was about the same as the year before around this time of year. In fact, it was so hot that every now and then someone would volunteer to team up, and walk down the sizzling street, and pluck the Jack Rabbits out of the melted asphalt. 'Rabbit Tar Stew' was a favorite staple around these parts. Just two Jack Rabbits were large enough to feed a hungry crowd. It was so hot that one was forced to speak in a loud voice because words tended to evaporate before they could reach the ears of an entended listner. It was so hot that Buzzards were in the habit of wearing asbestos beaks this time of year, and appreciated the fact that their meals came pre-cooked. Townfolks learned to talk louder, and to listen twice as fast as people from anyplace else. In the winter of course they had to remind one another to tone it down a bit, as loud noise tended to break freshly frozen ears. Over in 'Redundants' sister city 'Also', about a two day walk as the crow flies, and about twice that by sticky road, the weather unsurprisingly mirrored the weather in 'Redunadant', so no one gave it a second thought when the subject came up, if ever it came up at all, and seldom more than once.
But life can often be like that when it sometimes seems that nothing much changes, especially when folks tell, and hear the same old things over, and over again, like there, where it was just another day, that day, in the little dusty, thirsty, town of 'Redundant' Texas where a jack Rabbit is worth its weight in cold drinks, and where if a story is worth telling, it's worth telling more than twice. ;) ;)
A story of redundancy by BuddyBlack.
It was just another day, that day, in the little dusty town of 'Redundant', Texas, the little thir...sty town that sat between yesterday and tomorrow, seemingly never going back, and yet seldom going foreward. It was pretty much a copy of the day before, and quite likely it would be pretty much the same tomorrow as today. There was nothing particularly 'different' about this day, although the locals all agreed that for some reason the desert flowers did seem to smell twice as fragrant that day as any two days before.
A pair of curr dogs, long of ear, and short of energy, one named 'Two', and the other one 'Onemore', were seen lounging like happy tourists in the shade of a nearly empty water tower near the rusted railroad tracks that lead both into, and not surprisingly, out of town. Even though they seemed friendly enough, it was always a good idea to think twice about coming closer than about two feet from their lounge spot, and if you said anything to them at all, you just said, 'good boys, good boys', and then moved on.
On a side spur of the rusted tracks to nowhere, sat the last train, Engine 222, that visited 'Redundant' sometime in the far distant past. Of course there was no one left around that could recall exactly when that was, but most agree that it was most likely around the 22nd of February,1922, an especially chilly day in 'Redundant' with the temperature uncharacteristically hovering at double digits minus zero. There was really no good reason for its arrival, whenever that actually was, and then why afterwards there was even less reason for it to leave. Some locals figured it simply froze in place, and never thawed, and so there it stayed, and no one even thought twice about it again. Some folks even say, 'what train'?
The only bar in town, 'Goody Two Shoes', was the only 'watering hole' around these parts where one could get two shots of 'Snake Eyes' whiskey for the price of one in the winter, but where the price doubled come summer. Even there, things were about the same as the day before. Well, except, it seemed, for one odd difference. On this particularly sun baked day there were two thirsty patrons nestled up to the stand-up bar, and the locals did a double-take to see a pair of obvious twins nursing their drinks. These two waywards would not have stood out anywhere else I suppose, but not only did they look alike, and sound alike, they also dressed alike in their city slicker threads and shiny Buster browns, and they constantly re-told each others stories, more than once it seemed, and they bank rolled their drinks, their favorite being the 'Poets Muse', with a wad of slightly used Two Dollar bills. One of the twins was heard to comment more than once, 'I wouldn't give you two red cents for anything less'. Only the two of them knew exactly what that meant, and no one even thought to ask. Strangely, even though they were 'two chips off the same block', one was twice as good looking as the other, depending on which angle they were seen from, but they certainly made quite the pair in their otherwise sameness. When someone asked for their names, one gave the name 'Duo', and the other as 'Duece'. 'Odd 'handle', someone muttered into their warm beer. 'Well, our Mother was a Mathematician, and our father a Numerologist, and so it logically followed that we would be 'counted' thusly, they explained to no one in particular. The mirror, as big as Texas itself, hanging on the wall behind the bar, captured their double likeness, reflecting it brightly back into the otherwise dark room, and if you looked closely enough you could see them casting a wink at one another as if they'd just told a funny 'inside' joke once again, to their own private amusement.
Outside, the weather was not unusual for the season at hand, hot, dry, lizard gagging dusty, with a slight chance of shade which was about the same as the year before around this time of year. In fact, it was so hot that every now and then someone would volunteer to team up, and walk down the sizzling street, and pluck the Jack Rabbits out of the melted asphalt. 'Rabbit Tar Stew' was a favorite staple around these parts. Just two Jack Rabbits were large enough to feed a hungry crowd. It was so hot that one was forced to speak in a loud voice because words tended to evaporate before they could reach the ears of an entended listner. It was so hot that Buzzards were in the habit of wearing asbestos beaks this time of year, and appreciated the fact that their meals came pre-cooked. Townfolks learned to talk louder, and to listen twice as fast as people from anyplace else. In the winter of course they had to remind one another to tone it down a bit, as loud noise tended to break freshly frozen ears. Over in 'Redundants' sister city 'Also', about a two day walk as the crow flies, and about twice that by sticky road, the weather unsurprisingly mirrored the weather in 'Redunadant', so no one gave it a second thought when the subject came up, if ever it came up at all, and seldom more than once.
But life can often be like that when it sometimes seems that nothing much changes, especially when folks tell, and hear the same old things over, and over again, like there, where it was just another day, that day, in the little dusty, thirsty, town of 'Redundant' Texas where a jack Rabbit is worth its weight in cold drinks, and where if a story is worth telling, it's worth telling more than twice. ;) ;)
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