Non Sequitur by Wiley Miller for May 11, 2008

Transcript:

Man: Belch! Writer: Sigh... Woman; How long are you going to work on your novel, dear? Writer: For the last time, it's a memoir, not a novel! Woman: Whatever. Don't forget to take out the trash. Writer: You can rush art, dear. Suddenly, the distinct, melodious chirp of a nightingale pierced the din of cannon fire that had me and my fellow Green Berets pinned down. I wondered if it was an omen. But was it a good or bad omen? Then, out of the ugliness of war, a stunning vision of beauty stood before me. Heaven, I thought, had sent down an angel to me. Her eyes sparkled like a mountain stream in the morning sun. "come with me, my valiant stallion," she purred...