Trying to reach Walt Disney through the crowd of people around the tables was like trying to see through a gigantic aquarium. Tourists glided and flitted and stood impatiently on all sides. Phil began feeling claustrophobic, then he felt a tightness in his chest.
The next time he looked at Walt, all he saw was a Cheshire Cat of smoke over an empty table, Still ironically sporting its NO SMOKING heraldry.
A small child slammed painfully into Phil's legs. Looking down in annoyance he looked back up as he heard a gusting sob strangle its way out of a man's chest.
The sobbing man was a policeman, genus Los Angeles Cop or similar, his tears rolling down from under mirror shades. Alien tyrants had non-eyes like that, Phil thought to himself; not merely inhuman but incapable of emotion. Paradoxically the image of the tears running from under their shields made the emotion seem stronger, as though it had miraculously overcome a special kind of force field that protected cops from simple human things like emotion or empathy.
11/17/2016 10:31:26 PM
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