In the splendor of this mystical place we call Telluride, a few go unnoticed. These forgotten and overlooked unpleasantries are the pixies of our existence. They are the car door dings and pungent scents that jar our recollections back to the reality of our presence. The key is to realize that there is a beauty in everything; you just have to find it.
- Just outside the Dollar, a healthy patch of vomit winks and tips its hat `good-day' to some passers by. Knowing its breath couldn't be pleasant, it resists speaking.
- After eating in small classy bites, Howie's dumpster attempts to stifle a deep, guttural belch, and pardons itself. The smell is neither pleasant nor appetizing, but it doesn't seem to discourage a fanfare of canine celebrities and insects.
- A radioactive nugget sits quietly outside the mine. It finds great content in views of the waterfalls after thousands of years of claustrophobia in the mountain. A kitten walks by with 27 toes.
- At the stroke of midnight, four million nails wiggle in place beneath the town. This excites some rusty mining tools and other forgotten debris, and they all begin to dance. They laugh and remember being above ground in the days of old, and all at once, toast to the beauty of the mountains.
- After the shopping market closes, the marginal meat products gather for a B movie marathon. The bologna chuckles in delight during "Silence of the Spams;" the potted beef is intrigued with the documentary, "A Film on Beef;" and all become semi-gelatinous during a late run of "Babe."
- She loves the snow and it loves her. She asks for it with dances and love-charms, and so it comes. First a little kiss. Then an embrace. Then more and more until it seems the snow has found a fatal attraction. It follows her around town, stalks her in her sleep, and smothers her with affection. Back off, Creepo!
So this is paradise ... I wonder what sort of little nasties there are in Antigua.