The droplets of condensation sat harmlessly on the glass of the window overlooking a small town, in which the said glass resided. Occasionally the droplets would quiver from the oily skin which the nicotine smoke gave them. The Nicotine and its partner - tar, were very much filling up the small apartment room, overlooking the window which was in turn over looking the town.
Leanard Joshua Johnathan was planning his demise. Many days he had spent on this exact spot, swirling a glass of wine in the small goblet shaped goblet made of thin glass, somewhat resembling a wine cup, which could have been said that it resembled a glass. Alas, say so, it could not, and so it continued resembling a cup in shape of a goblet.
Every now and then, when the cup neared its fullest, Johnathan would empty its contents onto the passing men, and occasionally women, who were happily stalking the streets, under the forty ninth level of the building.
Joshua Leanard was never awake during these fleeting moments of passing time, and perhaps it was all for the best.
But it wasn't.
Indeed it was perhaps for the very worst.
But it still wasn't.
In all fading fact, it was for a very neutral.
The consequences of these episodes were so minute that even minuteness had left to attend better business elsewhere.Nevertheless, and the less was never. Johnathan carried on plotting against the great oppressor of crushed dreams and undying thoughts.
Having to dedicate most of his energy on staying in control of the vessel body, Johnathan had only some time to think, the rest of his time was currently flying down and dispersing slightly in a manifestation of sweet red Lambrusco, which within minutes of seconds, it would hit a very calculated position.
"Damnit" Johnathan mouthed.
The wine splashed onto a patch of pavement, missing a white dress of a bachelorette, who was coming uptown from a very lousy party, which she was never invited to anyway.
Meanwhile, Leanard stumbled through his own intestinal passages of the submind.
"Dreams" he said bitterly. "that's the reason why I never get any sleep at night"
But we all know that the reason for his insomnia was in fact the same reason why he couldn't sleep at night:
Cheese..
Was the very fine and genius idea Johnathan had instilled into Leanard' mind. This was of course after Johnathan had pleaded innocence to an entire range of various mutinies against the mind itself. But hard boiled wit was no match for a sleepy brain, which had to process a billion of these thoughts every year. And a year was of course a long time when one is trapped in the grey goo lurking just beyond the stream of conscious thought, so the decision to eat nine grams of cheese before bed, was overthrown by the thought of eating 73 times that original amount.
So there he stood. Smug, at the fact that he could smoke up the entire appartment and repeatedly refill his goblet of wine just to empty it on the nearest passerby.
If only he knew that this was the beginning of leanards carrer as a professional wine thrower.
If he did know, then he made no show of it, so for now, let us make an ass of you and me by believing that he didnt.
He probobly did.
Not like we'll ever find out about it.
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