Author: Elruade

Chapter 13



For J.E.G (check the scripture), the grey suit sprayed forth dust when he touches it. A woman was leaning against a wall. The shape in between her legs lent away to shadow, and the remaining plants stood in pots. Some crooked twigs against the wall. The same follows for the democrat kingdoms, and the Holmswell Conspirators. They should all be hanged.


Hands hands touched the caterpillar and retracted. A reenactment of the Tear Ballast. Interpretitave.


-The shape, tenderly, is absurd.

-You Heart Shaker! Pale egg, crystal demography!

-We can stain and wane; wane for the burst.

-Crying out loud.



-I get mixed reactions, I get sick of it.

-Who are you waiting for?

-This demography of yours.

-Yet they have names and surnames.

-Don’t be foolish.



-I can shake my leg, I can hunt for fleece.

-I’m not all that.

-You are that and more.

-Why are you here?

-Is my shape...You!

-A portable knife.


-Fuck your figure. Perfunctory, Yellow.

-How long is it?

-Fix the thong and use glue.

-And these?

-Handbasket of Oranges.


-It is there, and includes shadow and mass.

-My body, my body, is fat.

-Please hide.



-It is thick and hot.

-What I feel>I think.

-This foot is bread.

-Knead it and bite in it.

-Dum dum dum.

-I’ll call cancer tomorrow.

-Don’t forget. Tell it this: we can move on.


-One is open, the other half.

-Something is in there.

-Will you take it out?

-It seems I was born for this..

-Place it on a sheet of paper.

-Summer is long; Diego was a bastard.

-I use crayon for the color. Spit for lighting.

-Use your gadget.

-I haven’t used it yet.

-A switch, a cross.

-Tablemanners underneath a table.

-The dog is hunting for a green lizard.

-All rocks are invisible.

-All rocks are arranged alphabetically.

-Who is professional regrets the loss.

-The professional loss is regret.


-The unskilled celebrate in the morning.

-Wonderful draperies! Tapestries!

-They don’t know when to jump.

-Ahah. Wait for the eager foot, and then.

-Were you always so white?

-I was pale once, now I am black.

-Another shit?

-Thanks; it’s enough.

-Perversion on paper; still wash.

-Dirt can be washed. Indeed, dirt isn’t the problem.

-Speak more softly when there is a window!



Lift my weight, tend Adrianus.

Toggle tog-toggle toggle.

Who wants to be, is still arriving late.

And they don’t regret or apologize.

One hot shape, the other green.

The ember grease, the ginger cap.



A large wave sent the city. A large wave made it dip. Cancel my appointment; time for more. The city bobbed. Pizza came too late, they say. Paris is such an ugly city; you know that. We wipe it off the map; forget about the past.

A tear ripped across the continent and the city pushed by the wave. A flag was stuck in it and called Nanking. A city of perpetual night; of giving. Fingerlickers in a parlor. Knock on the door. Give me a spoon, one of them says. When I knock again, a sound as of cracking.

My nephew is still on the other side. I told him not to bother. It’s alright. I have managed by myself quite well this week. I feel I can take something on, myself. And I quote Shakespeare when I say; Heart over my heart, conquest on conquest.

The sex the gadget the mission; I hope I have given enough over to you. Here; a leather bag. Inside is a tassle and a ticket, a razor and a stapler, a bomb and a laugh. These things embody the lives of some men. I continue to learn from them even when I am not there. I use binoculars, that’s right. Poker? It’s a women’s sport, if you don’t believe me. It is because the lighting is soft and tender. Also, your hand gives it away. Women’s hands are smooth. As are their feet. And again; harder than rain.





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