morne's request (1/3) Cobblestones split like old parchment and feathered away into nothingness. The countryside bucked and gave. Upon the horizon mountains receded into the sky while the stars winked out behind them and by the
barista well that was depressing! here have a silly thing (p.s. if the inclination strikes you, don't hesitate to rip these things to shreds. all criticism is more than welcome) ~ Today I'll greet
passenger Wailing, an ambulance threads traffic. It rockets through red lights. A pothole jolts it onto two wheels and when it slaps back to the road the man inside it rocks on his stretcher.
the ides of blarch The logorrheic clouds of blogwar loom once more. Behold! It is the marching of blags! Blarching. Movement! Get down. Look there—through the dust and debris. Why, it's veteran blagomancers John, Ale and