Elevated Thoughts

The little imp bawled lustily as it lay in its perambulator there by the water fountain in a secluded garden right in the middle of a concrete jungle, disturbing my elevated thoughts that churned and churned inside my mind on how to kill those pesky flies that infested my rundown abode. It was no use for me to kick any brilliant idea around, so long as that pesky brat disturbed the silence all around. Why even the doves stopped cooing and other birds stopped chirping, whilst most decided that 'twas best to search for a quieter place. So I walked up to his comely nurse sitting contentedly on a bench and scratching my unshaven face I quite politely asked why the little cherub cry so much! She looked me up and down and down and up, no doubt disgusted by what she discerned. "Maybe he's seeing a devil," she replied, cooing at the cherub that made its bright new pram quiver with yelping wails. "Or maybe he's thirsty," scathingly I replied. Cherub my foot, I thought. And sighing I slowly repaired back to my solitary bench and thought and thought on how I could kill those parasites that bothered me as much as that little cherub in the pram.