No messag title

illusion88

Lifer
Oct 2, 2001
13,164
3
81
he stops to admire teh pretties in the shops. I, completely vestigial, hang back, pretend to smoke a cigarette, lean against the glass, feign disinterest, desperate. jackson turns and approaches me, flashes me a wicked grin in the flickering streetlight. his face is a television set flipping through a hundred channels, his voice is the sound of a squeaky bed and inexperienced lovers.
 

TruePaige

Diamond Member
Oct 22, 2006
9,874
2
0
The man without a name hears not the rattles around him, and charges headlong into the fray of life, departing from reason and inabilities, into a world of uncertainties and fear.