possibilities

Sun looms over the horizon and the wakefulness of a thousand prarie dwelling foxes does not change. Supposing I was one of them, then I would be the same as one of them but not all of them. Consider the peculiarity of this situation. They are all the same in the sense that the looming sun, threatening to send a handful of prairie partridges up to the above, does not affect the wakefulness of any of that thousand prairie dwelling foxes. Yet, where I one of them, I would only be the same as one of them and thus might be affected by the certain loom of the sun.

The looming sun leaves a beautiful tapestry, just short of a paisley shawl, in its wake as the miles roll asunder. A babbling brook of bear sweat alerts the hogwash of antelopes to be careful. Lucky for them, the bear is interested mostly in something other than them. The bear is most interested in a market where a certain bull has died. When the bear gets there, its going to eat and then hibernate. Maybe it is hibernating on top of a sewer grate, for good measure of warmth, and is swept up in the police bin along with a certain homeless Abu Rudy, a mistakenly homely bear mistaken for being that and homeless.

When the crucial facts are strewn out in the damp air of a sub-prime basement somewhere in the sump pump room of a solid old building in Somewhereville, the bear will be released. Where not the facts to reveal that the bear is dead, the bear would be further detained, possibly arraigned, later to be rearranged into a thousand degrees of carbon angles. However, being the good police commissioners they are, this fact is overlooked or never looked up. The dictionary has been sucked up by the sub-prime sump pump ages ago. Details are for the feeble minded, as well, I might add.