Strange & Stranger.
He hated them both.
As usual, the presence of Strange had been announced in the form of a large, other-worldly thorn that could only be described as a talon. Said gargantuan claw had surfaced in M.’s bed, beneath his back as he attempted to beat insomnia with a new, heavier dose of opiates.
She was sitting on a stool in the dingy apartment corner now, a hand held before her featureless face, giggling.
“Where’s Stranger?” M. queried, respectfully irritated.
Strange shrugged.
M. growled, clawed his way out of bed, donned the fedora.
Fairies were never worth the trouble.
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Ha! Love it! I'd like to see more of this stuff too. You're ability to pack so much meaning into so little space is fantastic.
ReplyDeletePS Did YOU'RE blog get marked as a spam blog by stupid google's robots? Cause mine did ._.
................. you have a blog Shannon?
ReplyDeletethanks for the meaningful comment, meg.
ReplyDelete-.-