I turned her upside down and back to make the snow swirl. She kept on musing.
“Z xzasz. It’s meaningless at first glance, but if you think it over for a while, you see the 3, 3 pattern of the z’s. If you ignore the space after the first Z, you lose symmetry but you gain a tiny chunk of Fibonacci.
My dad had a ZX. I had a Z. A 1977 Nissan 280Z. It was one of my favorite cars, and one of my first. When I got it, it was nearly 20 years old and looked horrible. I wish I had seen it brand new in 1977, but I would have been two years old and not interested.
X as what? It’s as though you’re wondering while snoozing. Z… hmm, “x” zz… as zzz… But we’ll never know because I got the snow off then. Of course, you can deduce that it was somewhat stuck between keys, because otherwise I’d have typed nothing at all.
I wonder if xzasz is slang for “exactly” anywhere. Xzasz what I was thinking.”
Is this post boring? If so, it’s not my fault. You can’t tell, really, but you could have guessed that I wrote it all down while sipping chocolate under the stairs as a woman in a snow globe sang it to me. If you had guessed that, you’d have been more interested and I wouldn’t have to scold you.
I’ll add a couple of sentences at the top and it’ll be a little easier for you to see that there’s more to this post than meets your dull little eyes. No, I’m sorry. You’re very smart, you sharp you, you.
There. Now it’s interesting. Thank you for your time, you spoiled thing who needs everything to be entertaining. This has been the story of me telling you the story of how I listened to a woman who was relatively small tell me what she thought about getting some snow off of her keyboard. You are welcome.