Disapprove of what I wrote yesterday.

[ooc: But is it in his nature to apologize? Noooooo.]

( Read more... )

Curses. Didn't know how strong they'd be. Didn't know they could go that far. Superstitious, an old woman's fear, to be cursed. Old women on three-legged stools, witches on toadstools, milking dewsilky cattle, silk of the kine, they fear curses ( Read more... )

A troubled night of dreams. Want to get them off my chest ( Read more... )

What good a journal now? Typing journal on typewritertypething. Journalnewspapertypewriterthing. Le Journal fit quite well. Sober again, fortunately or unfortunately. Fairly sure I am. Place called the City and nothing more. Neither here nor there. Not Dublin. Imagine. And none of them here either. How many miles to Dublin? Three-score ( Read more... )

(Enter Stephen, head and arms thrown stark back, beating the ground, and fleeing from the room, the room unseen, the unseen room, camera obscura, past the whores at the door. Fade away, alleyway, a new nighttown. Carousel.)

CAROUSEL

(Spinning. A horse's whinny and a calliope pipe.) Rounadownaringadown, hoo hah hoo hah hoo! Rounadownaringadown ( Read more... )