Ham Man fumbled for the object on the ground. He knew he dropped something, but his pink hands grasped at nothing. His eyes half closed, he continued to reach. Leaning back for a breath of air, he then lunged forward again. No luck grabbing the item. It was there. He knew it. Ham Man had a thing. Now he no longer had a thing. But what could he do without the thing?
Ham Man closed his eyes. An eternity passed. It was about sixty seven seconds long. He opened his eyes. The thing! He must get the thing! He reached down again but the thing was not where his hands were. Ham Man smelled the air. He smelled of ham. But the thing was not ham. He was the source of the ham smell. But what was the thing?
The train conductor steps over Ham Man’s umbrella as he walks by. Ham Man sees this. Umbrella! The word comes to his lips. He lunges. Umbrella is now in hand. Ham Man was successful. Now for sleep. Ham Man will sleep.