It's hard to believe. Mr. Miyagi was not a person you would expect to die, ever. First you learn that your parents are mortal, then yourself, but nowhere in the manual does it say that Mr. Miyagi isn't the invulnerable, constant force of nature I thought he was. I never knew him, but had slept a little easier knowing that if I ever had a life-changing crisis I could always approach the man.
As in uffish thought I stood, a procession of shellfish wandered haphazardly by. In their wake, a little plastic knife washed ashore. I've always contended that the world will end buried in those tiny white plastic utensils, because only the spoons are really useful. The forks and knives are too flimsy and cheap to accomplish anything, but we're forced to purchase all of them in one go. Humanity, by clinging to their outdated foodware, is killing our planet.
I got to midthought before the sun exploded.
I never could get the hang of Tuesdays.