MY STORY IS COMPLEX FOR A TYPICAL MIND. YOU SEE,
REVENGE IS MY PURSUIT,
BEAMED STORM CLAPS APPEARED NEAR THE HOUSE OF TOC FOR WHICH TO WITHDRAW FROM.
MY STREET CONTAINS A HUMBLE CAFÉ,
“THE BEST COFFEE IN TOWN”
AND URRRM WELL.
A DEATHLY CASTLE
WALKING NEAR THE GATE, WOODEN, AGED
WITH A WIDE COLLECTION OF WEBS AND IDOLISING CROWS. I WAS TRIPPED BY AN ANCIENT PILE OF NEWSPAPERS AGING TO THE ERA OF CORSETS. BY THIS TIME,
DARKNESS FELL, A PEARLED MOON PASTED ON A CHARCOAL BACKDROP; SILHOUETTING THE GATE. HAIR TEASING THROUGH MY SALMON CHOP STICKS, DECIDING WHICH PIGMENTATION WOULD DESCRIBE MY MOPPED HAIR BEST,
CRIMSON, RUBY, SCARLET, BRICK?
I WAS IN DENIAL.
