the lucky piece of paperThe window security bars are wrapped in vines. choked. beleagured. embraced by. smothered in. encloaked. overwrought with. enshrouded with. woven over with. stitched over. the twisted mystery of. the tangled maze of. a chaotic quilt work. an occluded river system. a silent battle. a congested network. sinews. nerves. streams. tenacious. slithersome. relentless. majestic. an elegant, unknowable tapestry. and hung on the elder winter skeleton of it all, jutting out like a curious leaf, was a lucky lucky lottery ticket. 
Once upon a time, on a pleasant April's day, there was a kafuffle in a park. Some creepy men in weird robes were driving electric golf carts around and shouting out things through a megaphone. And a monkey boy was within earshot. The poor monkey boy thought that the creepy men were calling out to him. And he was confused. Then the creepy men drove up to the startled monkey boy. Words were exchanged. Then one of the brown robed men threw the monkey boy into a sack. There were some screams. Other creepy men went to work on the sack with curious wooden paddles. And, in the confusion of it all, the monkey boy released from his tight grip a very lucky piece of paper. The lucky piece of paper fell to the ground. As the creepy men beat the sack like it was a very dirty rug, that little piece of paper was blown around by a sudden gust of wind. It blew around impressively, and then was blown higher and higher and even higher still. The strong wind carried it up up up into the sky. That strong wind also blew up into that Summerland sky some other interesting things that were lying around the park. Fourteen gum wrappers joined the lucky piece of paper that had been making Johnny the monkey boy so very happy. Some old leaves were also blown up and away, and the leaves and the lucky piece of paper were soon joined by one hundred and forty-six candy wrappers, one toupee, two startled ants, four unidentifiable pieces of plastic and a small boy's paper airplane (how the small boy cried and cried as he watched his creation swirl up into the sky - ripped out of its aerial path by the strong and weird wind). The wind carried this interesting collection of things higher and higher into the gusty Summerland sky. A swirling vortex was formed and all the debris spun around like wet clothes do in properly maintained washing machines everywhere. The dust devil moved away from the park and the monks and the now-knocked out monkey boy and onto Commuter Street. It traced along the ground like a giant's finger. The commuters on Commuter Street were startled by the column of dust and trash whorling across the street. One commuter was especially surprised when a dusty toupee landed on his windshield. He honked his horn, but it stayed on his windshield like a weird, hairy, squished bug. And down by Blitzpilgrim's Café, a patron would have been surprised if she had noticed the dizzy ant that had fallen from the sky into her expensive frothy drink. She didn't notice the ant though and she took a big swallow. Down the poor ant went with the tasty frothy drink. Dust and trash was being released all over the place from the grip of the spinning dust devil. This dust and trash sifted down onto the commuters below like weird snow. - And, at the top of it all, quite trapped in the pull of the dust devil, above a swirling mass of candy wrappers was a paper airplane (which a boy in a park was no longer crying about as his mother had given him a Beelzebub Sugar Snap to ease his sad loss), one now-alone dizzy ant, and the lucky lucky piece of paper that had made Johnny the monkey boy so very happy. The dust devil spun faster and faster as it slid mysteriously down Commuter Street. At its highest point, the paper airplane and the lucky lottery ticket by chance banged into each other. Then, as the motion of the dust devil changed, the lucky piece of paper slid into a fold of the paper airplane's wing. The swirling dust and trash then moved diagonally across Commuter Street and was soon at the mouth of Pink Flamingo Street. A gentle breeze was blowing down Pink Flamingo Street. The breeze was such that it upset the weird balance of power that had allowed the dust devil to exist. Where there had been a tight spiral of wind and dust there was, moments later, nothing at all. The magic trick of wind and dust was finished. The wind and breeze cancelled each other out and all was still. Trash and dirt rained down on Molochai's Synogogue, Flinty's Tailor Shop and on a startled pedestrian. Perhaps the pedestrian thought to himself, "I am certain that the weather man did not alert me to the possibilities of this," as candy wrappers and dust settled on him. And far above these goings on a paper airplane began to descend. As there was no longer any breeze to hold it aloft, the angle of the plane's descent was soon quite sharp. The wings of the paper plane trembled as the plane soared steadily down. Down it swooped, closer and closer to the houses and apartment buildings of Pink Flamingo Street. The plane shook as it plunged out of the sky. The paper airplane shook so much that the hitchhiking ticket was knocked free. The lucky piece of paper slowly tumbled about in the air. And the plane left it behind and continued down down down, faster all the time, whipping through the air like a shivering paper missile. Down at 341 Pink Flamingo Street, three hired goons were milling about on the building's porch. They were standing around looking confused and wondering what to do with themselves. The monkey boy they had been hired to collect some money from was nowhere to be seen. So they were settling in a bit, and preparing to do some waiting. And down the paper airplane zoomed, like an intent murderous bird. It cut down violently towards a building in an ill state of repair and soared into the airspace of the building's porch - where it smacked into the back of the head of one of the hired goons. "What the..?" the hired goon thought as he felt the sudden sting. He rubbed his head and looked around. Then he saw the paper airplane with its crumbled tip lying at his feet. The hired goon looked suspiciously at the other two hired goons. "They're pretending they didn't do anything," the goon - whose name was Mr. Comedian - thought. He gritted his teeth. "Maybe they're out to get me. Yes. They most likely are. They envy my reputation. My prestige. I'm going to have to watch my back on this job. Yes. I'll have to be more careful than ever before." And above the spectacle of the frowning Mr. Comedian, the lucky lottery ticket was fluttering down. Like the paper airplane, it was twirling down towards 341 Pink Flamingo Street. And down and down it pirouetted in its gravitational ballet. With no wings to let it swoop, its path was different than that of the paper airplane. So it didn't soar down to bump into the head of the paranoid goon. Which is probably just as well. Instead, it just fluttered down, gently down, to the front of 341 Pink Flamingo Street where it soon got gracefully lodged amongst the leaves sprouting from some vines growing there. Those vines grew along and up the side of that building, covering some patches of crumbling plaster along the wall and the security bars by the window. The lucky piece of paper nestled in among the leaves. It was hidden - now part of the foliage which covered those security bars there. The security bars which were protecting the apartment of Johnny the monkey boy. - And not too far away, a badly beaten and unconscious monkey boy was being shuttled away in a golf cart to a new weird life. - And far above Summer City, lofted on the city's chaotic breezes, was a very dizzy ant. Everything else picked up by the tricky dust devil had been released by the wind except for the poor ant. The ant didn't understand his new life. Away, it blew away, blown here and there by the winds - out of Summer City, and, out of this story.
And days passed. Rain fell. The sun rose, then set. Weeks passed. And the lucky piece of paper sat there, among the vine leaves like a strange leaf. Time passed and it just stayed there. Some seasons changed. And it just stayed there. It endured the sun and the wind and the rain and the fog and the morning mists. And over to its side on the porch, a strange collection of folded paper animals was growing. 
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