December 2010
5 posts
The dull sound of fucking sharp math.
“I don’t like change” she cringed, as if it was leering at her from across the room, as if it had arms and legs and was eager to trip her, as if its malice was palpable and consumed her at only that moment.
““Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens...”