This one is titled "blood and superstition"
step oneFrom the wound's shallow escape rivulets of blood ran down my skin onto the white linoleum floor. I had cut myself in the kitchen, being clumsy, being careless. I thought of nothing, fallen, prepared detached objectivity to move my eyes and assess the damage. The incision wasn't deep enough to
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Comments 51
we must be unbirthday friends.
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Then, yes.
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How to some people it evokes emotions of times past, some of people, and some of places...
What's interesting is that it's all different. To each person. That your thoughts in conjunction with punctuation, mean something different to everyone.
I think that my friend is the sign of a timeless writer.
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Second, yeah..I notice that too and it's always fascinated me. I go back and forth from thinking that I'm just a hack, to wondering if I may actually be onto something much bigger than myself. Either way, I know I should probably write more. It's hard to gather up my thoughts in my old age, though.
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Don't ask why. Just know, deep down in your heart, that it had to be done. If you don't ask me no questions I won't tell you no lies, kiddo.
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I was in the act of answering mail last night until somebody called who needed a ride because they had way too much to drink. And today's been all about finding people's cars. For a little while I was looking for my own.
I'm pretty tired now.
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another time we can chat maybe.
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And this level of contentment is still going strong two days later. It's pretty nice.
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