Diminutive parable of Samuel Horowitz

At the crepuscular light of the dawn the ascetic barbate humano seen was

from passions his body liberated is, he who nothing needed, but food and water.
And air.

Seen he was, engaged in something that looked like rhythmical increasing movements that turn out to be a powerful revolution in his intestines, and how comes that suddenly he runs?

Runs he runs
like a Robin Hood through a shitty Sherwood*
like a municipal employee on through a mechanical library (sic).

.... And behind the bushes his bony silhouette shelter finds, idoneous place to download this smokey, creamy, diarrheasome, succulent and brown truckload that tortured his bowel-esque mysteries, and he takes this shit with a passion, passion he feels shitting this mousse-like cumulation, passion, as he feels the tubelike entrails getting alleviated, newfound desperate pasión -sexual almost- due to the stomachal urgencies, which makes him scream an instinctive "AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH..... " because of the passionate pleasure of the felicitous download.

While he hygienized his anus, after the successful and compelling delight of the emptied cloaca, he started thinking about his futile and smug self-denial... and this is how, the humble-rumble of his excretory paraphernalia showed Samuel Horowitz one valuable lesson that luminous dawn of July: no flesh can be completely free from passions et needs.

Seven years after the revelation we find him as a nasty honcho without integrity in Wall Street, who changed his name legally to Samuel Howard.
This is how we jump from the lamb to the tyrannosaurus rex, and all thanks to that frugal and laxative salad.


These words don't need more.


"What you're about to do, do quickly".

John 13:27.



















Note: the word "shitty" is intended to be understood as an erudite expression in this context.