A great crowd surges through the streets, chanting, singing. Should I:
take off my clothes and expose myself as I always do to the sea, its enormity, its danger?
settle into the couch with a bowl of instant ramen to watch my favorite cooking show?
finally learn the words the voices have been murmuring in my head?
bring toys and candy for the police, so they'll greet us as liberators?
lead prayers to the god of wasps?
traffic in rumors, selling high and buying low until I corner the market?
put a picture of a flame on my cellphone and wave it over my head yelling "Fire!"?
send the children, who are so much more foolhardy and less corruptible than we are?
tell these troublemakers to stop crying or I'll give them something to cry about, then fire cans of tear gas into their midst?
put on a Panama hat, Bermuda shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt and look for a conga line?
slouch towards Bethlehem to be born?
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