Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. 1922-2007

Things that flash though my mind upon thinking of this man’s works:

An allien with orange rubber balls for feet, running across a lake and yelling, “Skip! Skip!”

A skinny POW, limping through the shattered moonscape of a city in ill-fitting clogs, looking for some shred of decency in humanity.

In the shadow of the barn, as the sun went down.

Birds pooping in teacups.

A picture of an asshole.

“See the cat? See the cradle?”

Kurt Vonnegut was one of my favorite writers. Rest in peace, sir. You will be missed.

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