outwait outrun outwit





TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


04.21.07, friday night

Black water gushes from the seam separating ceiling and wall. I'm late, and I need to grind the coffee before the rush.

. . .


So what kind of luck happens when a fox crosses your path? This trickster looked both ways before leaping over the yellow-flecked bank into the hedgerow where soft, pretty little things sang and fluttered.

. . .


Later Jimmy said, There's already been one shot this morning.




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