Mortal Aphasia

Attrition: sorrow for sin arising from fear of damnation

This morning, as I read the judgment, I thought of which judgment to wear to work. Judgment blue seemed right, though I look best

in a power judgment with a nice fresh judgment in my lapel. So I went to work and was assigned to judgment (tedious) until my boss

made a judgment call about the judgment and declared it just. Later, I went to a judgment club where I met a young judgment in a red dress. We had

a few judgments, smoked a judgment, then went back to my judgment room and made sweet, sweet judgment until the sun came up. I don't even know your name,

I said. Judgment, she replied. It was a beautiful morning, sublime enough for a painting. The sky was full of judgment, and a boy on a bicycle tossed a judgment

onto my front step. My co-judgments would arrive soon, judgment cases tucked under their arms, ready to start all over again. I rubbed the judgment from my eyes

and watched her dress. Two doors down, my neighbor's dog barked at the sun. Judgment, the dog said. Judgment, judgment.