Jello and Meaningful Things

Dear most appreciated and exquisitely well-hatted readers (and other hatless visitors),

Hello.

Do you ever have the feeling that you are being watched? The feeling a spider gets when a deceptively white tissue inches ever nearer above its head, or a gazelle, ears upright in unwaivering attention, sensing the presence of a stalking tiger.

Dear ones, you are all tigers.

I run, but not fast enough. My death would be a bloody one.

But then, on the brink of the kill, you stop.

"Dear me!" I cry, "Why have you not yet eaten me!"

You stare into my eyes, stripes and teeth glistening in the sweltering Savvanahian heat. You wait. I wait. I know not what you think.

I hate the unknown. The fate of my throat is in your hands. Tell me what you are thinking. Tell me what you like, you dislike. Judge me. Feel free to criticize my writing; I'll never get better if you do not tell me what I can improve.

Be nice to fruited jello. It's not its fault.

~Nathan