I open this page and think of a couple words to start with, then I type without stopping till I have a paragraph.Then I press publish. No pausing. No editing. (I fix up the spelling and the odd bit of punctuation to make it more in line with what my brain was thinking and my fingers were trying to type, but I don't add or remove any words) ........... Find LITTLE VISIONS VOL 1 in audiobook and zine format at https://bridesofchrist.bandcamp.com/album/little-visions-vol-1-audiobook
Saturday, January 17, 2015
AT THE END OF MY STREET
At the end of my street there is man with a wooden leg. I don't know what he is planning but he has a very sinister look about him and he has been standing there for some hours, just glaring inscrutably and spitting out hunks of chewing tobacco every now and again. I go out onto the street periodically and stare back at him. He never moves. I am in the kitchen, fixing some eggs, just trying to listen to the radio and relax, but I can feel him out there. It's got to stop. Somebody's got to get that fucker off the street. I guess I could go talk to him, but that's not my style. I feel like things are going to go from one to a hundred very quickly with this situation. Jesus it's hot.
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