Are sloths an appropriate mascot for this novel because it took me 24 years to finish it? You betcha.
Did I write the only near-future cli-fi conspiracy action-adventure comedy to incorporate sloths as a major plot point? Maybe.
All the senators were in the boardroom, seated except for Massachusetts. He’d won a sloth in an exotic animal gambling event last week and carried it around everywhere like a baby, despite several accidents with its claws.
Either it smelled or he did.
Hell, could have been one of the others. Bob’s stomach turned over. He took a seat next to Sam.
“Hey, Bob. I think that thing’s taking a crap. It’s not sanitary.”
“Who is this guy? Do you know? Am I being replaced?”
“A really slow crap.”
Corporate Torsos Need Not Apply
Nobody in this cabal had any focus.
Sloth love has seized everybody.
I took a bunch of naps today and pinned it on their holiday.
In this fast-paced, driven time period, we can all get behind something that’s so slow, it’s rotting a little bit. Just like me and this novel.
Happy international sloth day, sloths!