Don’t you just spend your days thinking of murder, no overbearing silence. The spheres under your eyes punctuated with a grey well formed as smoke rings blown from a mouth with years of practice between each sentence.
Posted by caroline at March 24, 2006 3:34 AMThe sound, smell, and taste of a beetle placed between teeth and pressed until exoskeleton erupts and the meat is acquired.
Posted by: ben at March 25, 2006 9:37 AMare you referring to my work here?
Posted by: caroline at March 26, 2006 5:23 PMSort of. It's an image from my latest short story, which for some reason popped into my head (into the story, in fact) as a result of your entry.
Posted by: ben at March 26, 2006 9:50 PMthis week I have introduced people to writing games while on drugs, and in my own way have contributed to your opus in the works. I think this means I'm doing my part. It was good to run into you the other day. xoxo
Posted by: caroline at March 26, 2006 11:09 PM