Wednesday, August 6


The old writer watches the world as it fades like the black in her eyes.

Do you want to play this game?

You already know the ending.

There are no surprises here.

I sense a great cabal.

The roaches have left the walls and are laying eggs in my head.

Don't fear the black cat!

She'll lead you to the Western Lands without fellaheen involvement.

The old writer doesn't have the words left to say good bye.

His last were

"Love. Greatest painkiller what is. Love is."

He would know. He killed his.


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