March 2011
4 posts
Make sure you've read this:...
I was suddenly sheepishly aware of the spider-scrawled revelations across my chest; a hundred sticky silk words spun in the dead of night and fastened by the finest whispers of aurulent-pink thread to my dress. Barely visible in the white columbed dance hall they were now strikingly out of place, illuminated by a single sickly lightbulb dangled precociously above our heads. Once flush with the...
Who's Who
He comes flying through the cupboard door, nearly dismembering a finger in the process. Collapsing with bent knees and flustered breath, he slumps against the door frame, his articulate spine thrusting the full weight of his fragile vertebrae to barricade us in.
It’s little more than a broom cupboard, really. Small and stone-paved, littered with the remains of parties-past: half forgotten,...
1 tag
The ball & (happily ever) after
Where do you walk on sunny times/ When the rivers gleam and the buildings shine/ How do you feel goin’ up hallowed halls/ And the summer clothes brighten gloomy halls
Where do you fit in zzzzip magazine/ Where the past is the hero and the present a queen/ Just tell me right now where do you fit in/ With mud in your eye and a passion for gin /
And they’re all in love.
The thrum of...
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” said Faber. “It would be funny if it were not...”
– Ray Bradbury (via lunacy)