EloisaChance

three p.m. tell the cat, 'I let you handcuff me, you bastard' and she blinks at me, as if this were a time when you can just tell a young woman she is a bastard and she will sit curled up inside a coat of brown or black or both and feel overdressed and cold and know what a bastard is and she blinks at me as if she is falling asleep in the snow, which she has never seen, but I have finally seen, as of two weeks ago the day after tomorrow. she was not with me, and ultimately, it was unremarkable.

Death is among the Yonder living in their Imaginative abysses full of Nothing but the pair of Gates opening up to our Breathing having been Rendered to finally have an End that has been Ate by the single, open Truths spoken by the devil in Hell, directly to you