
When it was time to submit the monthly pigeon census for the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa the venerable sage was reminded of his uniqueness. the Face of Everyman was without fingers and toes. He relied on his abacus to count his quarry.

People had hung around all morning waiting for the Summer Solstice. Even the guy sent by Guinness who was there to gauge reaction of the folks at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. It seemed a nonevent by all counts. the Face of Everyman had forgotten to set his alarm. 7:57 was a tad early, Maybe next year he’d see it.