The Definition of Contract

I threw away my protractor when I disposed of my geometry book. A brief inexactitude is such a joy. Like a return home, like a breath of air out of memory. A small indiscretion adds years to life and laughter. I breathe an occasional lie, there is nothing more beautiful than a suspended rule, a release from duty. Precision is a prison. There is no pleasure like telling a fib and being sloppy about the truth. Words are wobbly and nearly transparently thin. Joy is bending them until they tear.