April 15, 2001


  • Another day, Easter even!


    Thanks to a phone call that cracked a crevice through which I could crawl. There are so many pleasant prison dreams in the prison catalogue I been browsing. Look: this prison cell comes with a hot tub and pink walls! And that one: drinks for nothing and the prance-dance of endlessly deluding sex! Step in, try the cell out, they banter, no obligations! And you step in and then the door slams behind. Soon the spaciousness of the cell that appeared from without begins to dwindle as the walls begin to retract toward the hollow center. Stop! Stop--I'm inside...what is this, a garbage compacter??? Like a bat out of hell I'd be, but I need an opening. There appears no ultimatum, only a fate of spatial attrition...until the phone call--*crack*--and I'm whisked away by a loving guardian faerie. Aloft with wings in the night fluttering so lightly!

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The End of Days

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