anything is good for something in the end

the thought of having to come up with something, anything, was too much. i can’t bear that, said sponge. breadroll entered the room and sat down. you are very formal today, said sponge, entering the room, like that. other people just come in. other people, as breadroll replied, also simply had enough, rather than claiming to be unable to bear an event or location. true, said sponge. they waited. perhaps something happens, said sponge, so that we do not have to come up with something. or anything at all, said breadroll, which, as they agreed, was a good way to end the conversation.

something gives nothing the end of the day

and we are sure, said sponge, that it came to nothing? Absolutely nothing?
breadroll said nothing.
i take that as a witty comment, said sponge. doesn’t really add to the topic. so nothing it is. that’s something. at least we are certain an outcome, a result, something to show with with a precise certainty. for i am going to stop talking right now and here and that’ll be the end.
you weren’t going to trust me, were you. that’s a silly ending, just like that. it has happened before though. nothing to show for it as we plod along, for certain. we could queue somewhere for a rest.
we could.
a lengthy dialog develops and fades out. they say nothing.

when ends meet and again

so it goes, said sponge, year in, year out, on and on, same syntax.
to go on: on looking back ‘on’, the word, reads ‘no’.
elderly ladies will fall out of windows once more, or twice, will tumble down, go on. get up, swiftly clean their clothes and go about their business, go on, get on with things.
we don’t to worry about that, said sponge, everything will fall in the right place. with breadroll’s agreement they spent the day this way or the other. nothing happened. but that is different story.

day to end all days

they are lashing us with sorries and slightlies and shortlies, said sponge. the merry fallout.
god love them but that’ll be it, said breadroll.
i could have a poem, said brekst, so sleak and sharp it shall impress.

i had weight problems since a boy but this is not an issue anymore. i have no one to thank for. i am lonely as a kite.
brrrrr theee thy tree liner arts’do rather jolligood tssss fnnnn. i thank you for attention, i’m sorry i almost forgot the fullstop.

loops end indeed

definitely turkish delight. if anything is definite than that particular flavour, said sponge. the soapy finish. legend. yes. we wait. and make a report. we have something to tell. but they wanted them short, an overview of things. just brush over items. breeze through issues. ah well, going forward. turkish delight.
it could be caramel, said breadroll. never, said sponge. we wait and see.

to go to end to terminate

to go, to have went, that is what brekst said, said sponge, herr brekst. i should go and ask the question.
but he doesn’t know it, said breadroll.
maybe i do, said sponge, i am super.
how about the cartoon characters they used on tv to show the offally stuff. pretty awesome. that’s these guys look now from a certain angle.

almost at the end of it

this will be quick, said sponge. he pointed at the sparse interior. no politics, he said, or breaking news. no father of two slaughtering a mother of three with a sixty year old grandmother of eight from donegal. no cabaret. this will be over when i’m finished with my tea. which is now, almost.

but when you ask it obviously will end in disaster

sponge: that caught me cold.
breadroll: what? it is obvious me asking that so not might sound a bit boring.
sponge: obviously. they did not bother putting the yucca tree out. see —- [points, no tree, obviously] ——– and i’ve been told to shut up and not go on about it.
breadroll: right.
sponge: what’ll we do now?

and that’s the end of it

yesterday i made a wet sponge go into work rather than myself. i made the sponge sit on my chair and wait for me to sit on it.
much excitement for a workday. drawn up minutes.
now here we go, said breadroll.
finally, said block of wood.
eventually, said sponge.
a long day in the office had comes to an end. anyhows.

egg’s end

that was a swift ending, said block of wood.
bit abrupt, too, said breadroll.
we leave it then with the egg, said sponge, they were badly presented anyway.

loops end

definitely turkish delight, said sponge, i know the soapy taste and creamy texture when i come across the sensation. he paused and admired the loops.
definitely, said breadroll, triangular.
most definitely, said block of wood, most loops are. these days anyway. speaking of which, nevertheless, we should go now.
before, said breadroll.
the loop reaches the, said block of wood, 3rd corner.
maybe it’s rectangular after all, said sponge.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.