I was misquoted

I heard a funny buzzing in my house. That could be the refrigerator, or one of the mathoms of the deep reaches of my cellar. In which case I might find myself back in a survival situation. If my well is broken or the power compromised or gnome people are coming up through my basement, I'm screwed.

I ventured out into the balcony, and down the tapestried and much revered corridors of learning, past the suits of armor all standing around smoking cigarettes and-who am I kidding? This is my house, not the Taj Mahal. I went out to the hall and heard a buzzing, buzz, buzz, buzzing upon my cellar door.

“'Tis only some annoying smart gadget,” I said. “Barfed up upon the Internecine shore. Only this and nothing more.”

Quote the raven, “Nevermore.”

What? What the fuck is a raven doing in my house? I've got mice dancing in my ceiling and some kind of buzz kill in the basement. Fruit flies make strafing runs out of my compost bucket and telemarketers howl at the cell phone. I was in the middle ages thermally the other day, and now I’ve got a bird omen in my living room? “Quaff,” I say. “Or just get lost. Geesh! And leave Thales alone!”

So, down the Dantean depths I descended,

Seeking those I have offended,

Upon that Hyperion shore.

As I, down Jacob’s ladder falling,

Heard a cawing voice now calling.

In a stream of cries, appalling.

Quote the…

“I said stop it! Come on. Nobody likes a nineteenth century raven dropper.”

Quote the raven, “Sorry.”

Where was I? Yes. The buzzer was a warning from the dryer. Which is kind of ironic. I got to the bottom of my cellar stairs to step into four inches of water.

Quote the raven, “Fuck.”