
prospective museum exhibit
Kyle eventually completes his journey to the dumpster, dropping the side of the table he is dragging, his weight into his palms into his knees, his geyser turning to torrential downpour. He anxiously glances to see if I’m looking and catches me glaring from my bench. “Back.” I optically command. He contritely rolls under the table in a pathetic vertical attempt to climb it over the dumpster’s edge. He drops it on his foot. His mouth makes an “O”.
From behind the glass, I think that this would make an exciting and cutting-edge museum exhibit. I think about how to procure the necessary allocation of the museum’s funds to assemble a creative project management team. Productive and proficient in charts and timelines, playbills and matchboxes, we’ll finesse the engorged pant-bulge wallets of the suitable commissioners and philanthropists. It sounds like a rather charming endeavor.