I was a little late getting this story in this week since I was at a conference yesterday with my students, who participated in a panel discussion about their experiences learning English.
On an unrelated note, I recently received two boxes of magazines that my great-great aunt had collected over her lifetime. There are some amazing things in there, from bizarre advertisements to an account of the Titanic disaster published the week after it happened in 1912. And much more. I’m starting a weekly segment known as the Green-Walled Time Machine where I’ll share things from the magazines. A new one will be up every Thursday from next week.
And now, on with the story…
The expression on the people’s faces looked like acceptance, just as anthrax looks like powdered sugar.
The fat man on the balcony saw nothing but powdered sugar as he beamed down at the crowd.
“Good morning, everyone! I’m Mr. Krantz, your new owner. I just bought you and this whole street from Mr. Grouse, who’s retiring from the chattel business. I’ll leave your shops alone, don’t worry, although we’ll probably sell off some children here and there. Just business, of course. Nothing personal.”
He chuckled. These people wouldn’t be a problem. They looked weak and insubstantial. Just like powdered sugar.