44.2.

The essential problem was that her table was wobbly. And the problem before the essential problem was that she had her eye on a certain other table when she arrived, and that by the time she had ordered her non-fat, no-foam, double-espresso Baggis Haggis Chino Mojito ® from the charmingly disgruntled barista dressed in the timeless fashion of sexual angst and I-HatE-dAdDy cOmbaT bOots™, the “crusaders,” as she was then lovingly referring to them in her head, had snagged that particular table to discuss the motivational triumph otherwise known in the British text as “The Porpoise Driven Knife” :







She sat at the table uncomfortably, and it wobbled to and fro. She placed “Problems in Modern Taxidermy” upon it, and the table spun like a top.

In attempt to balance herself she tried placing her Chino Mojito on the right side of the table using her left hand, and then delicately extending her right arm to make a great arc in the air and place her book on the left side; she did this only to find the whole mess more awkwardly titled than before.

Then, like Moses parting the sea and as one making an offering of her own body she moved her right arm into empty space and took the book from the left side of the table. She then took her left hand and delicately lifted her drink as if she was supporting the wait of an infant’s neck. She was motherly in this respect, with hips childbearing yet modest enough to slide effortlessly into Juicy Couture, and her hands were smooth with chamomile lotion.

With muscles and ligaments moving effortlessly through space and time she tried the opposite orientation—placing her drink on the left side with her right hand and placing her book on the right side with her left hand.

But still the table was wobbly and it spun like a top.
It ran in big wheels, so she spun it around, around, around.

Trying to find the right position, wheeling, wheeling wheeling

a galaxy, a farris wheel in the city of lights, a big red tricycle just like the one daddy gave her.

And she never forgave her daddy...


She spun her table, and her crusader came.
“Can I help you with that?” He asked, and he wanted to be her crusader. He wanted to be her crusader and
he placed a piece of paper under the table’s leg.


Will the boy fix the table? Will Fancy Fall in Love? Stay tuned to find out...