Awake with the intense heat of the room weighing upon my moist limbs, hanging at my lashes like the blood from a battlewound, a gash slashed into the gut in a moment of blind rage, of anger of lust of boredom. With life's misery hugging my neck, I rise. Outside I can hear Quasimodo's wail under the clanging of the bells, a wail more painful than
(
Read more... )