some things happen before and others after

whenever sack wanted to be a bag he ended up looking like a satchel. there those who cannot, for whatever reason, tell a sachet from a satchel, but they tend not to frequent the places of sack’s bag impersonation. hence no-one ever said sack looked like a sachet when he wanted to be a bag. not that this matters much for our jolly wanderers on their way to the office, happily plodding along, never having met sack. yet still, some curious thoughts: did you ever try to impersonate a bag, said sponge. no, said breadroll, and you? no, said sponge, never thought of it. i was in one once, said breadroll. and, said sponge, how was it? don’t remember, said breadroll.
then not much happened. they went for a coffee, had lunch. what else? i can’t really remember. probably not much, as i said. sack got beaten up the other day, really badly, by some thugs who thought he was a wallet. they would have cut him if they had know that he was impersonating a bag, looking like a sachet or satchel or whatever. that’ll be the end of that.

good things may happen with a decision of one or three

want 1 inch more or 3 more inches? you decide, all for six euro. special price. be honest.
to be honest, i wouldn’t know to be honest, said sponge, my day just isn’t long enough. even now when i don’t see the office that often anymore, the outside from time to time but you know how buildings look like after a while. no way i am going to decide on that, that for sure. i wonder if i’m the only one listening to that man.
the man was slight, tracksuited, and had his hair combed over. nice watch, new car. he left without without a trace. not certain that he ever was there.

anything may happen anyway

but we have to do something, said breadroll, look, it seems to be so important that nobody makes good jokes about it anymore.
which seems to imply that good jokes are made only about less important matters of course, said sponge, of course, is not necessairly correct, but a discussion would distract us too much.
a street opened to the left and another one to the right and there was this station straight ahead, caesar’s point, the one as they say that is not far from saltnuts and venushill, which is said to the one before done leary, which is the the harbour and point for connecting bus fares. if anything fails they go to done leary, they say.
c’s point is a tawdry place, no toilet, just a wall to pee on; but hardly ever anybody does.

someday somehow the same must happen again to someone

is that the day we’ve waited for? hardly is. never, not this one.
these were the comments received to the question; we could have other comments but are content with these ones. they are better than none at all.
thus spoke sponge.
certainly there was no need for him to say that.

even in the event that something ever might happen

brekst didn’t come in a while, said sponge, and not much happen since. a fly is a fly but for all i know it is an event. brekst with his cirpy voice, the voice that lingers on when he’s gone.
and even if something happened, said breadroll, what would we do?
about it? with it? for it? against it? i spin when i think about it, said sponge. you name it, said breadroll.

nothing will happen

and now? sponge seemed disgruntled. no proaction, no activity at all.
nobody moved.
see what i mean? sponge pointed.
nobody looked.
wouldn’t it be great to get away from it all? sponge longed and sighed. he nodded. we leave him to it. nothing will happen.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.