“Villainy,” whispered the little girl in the elevator with the spider tattoo on her forehead.
Standing next to the large man, her eyes pointed up at his back.
Ding, sang the elevator car, descending. » read the rest of the chapter… «
the last delivery
October 18th, 2009 § 4
this clown of calm
October 13th, 2009 § 0
some talk about how anger makes you into someone you are not. someone apart from your true self. i don’t know. i want to see how people react when they are riled. until i know that, we’re still in the powdered sugar stage. anyone can keep a smile in place for a class foto. but when a fucker gets cracked in the head and can’t find a foothold, you see how they’ll use you, how they see a person. remember being a kid? you take note of those adults that get weird and crazy when they get angry and the ones that basically stay who they are but let you know stuff is out of place. kids know what’s up. and i do too. save your mustard jacket for the dog show. next chance i get to jam my foot in your ass, you’re off the bus.