I wonder now what it would

have been like if no one had called, no one had cared or no one had come

(for one, we wouldn't have those amusingly decorative orange and white

road blocks). I wonder just how many cars could have actually fit in the

hole before they started sliding ever so deathly slow towards the swollen

creek? I wonder how many firemen it would have taken, how many reporters?

Tourist dollars?

It was rather bemusing to see

those city workers loitering about the hole, bored with the wait for contractors

and machinery, the entire ordeal reminiscent of a possible trip to the

Olduvi Gorge and Old Faithful. Two for the price of one, right in the

heart of Fayetteville.

This, from the looks on their

faces from my window, could have been the most action they had seen in

a long while. Not long, however, can be spent peering with any interest

at an overblown pothole and tidal creek by way of a lacerated main.

If their minds' perception

wasn't excitement and curiosity, than perhaps it was simply confusion,

bafflement and tedium. It's a fair distance from my window to the road.

But at least they put out the roadblocks. God bless those orange and white

roadblocks!

Dixie Eska-Thedra

Fayetteville