Saturday, July 29, 2017

Surfer On The Drift

From today:

     Lips like worms that had not budged in millennia cracked, revealing black teeth and white gums.  A grin in a grim throne room sending ripples through the castle floor down into the orbiting abyss like vibrations through a tin can phone, pleasure converting into sound, a rhythm, a ghoulish vibration, a wake-up call to the slumberer in the deep.       

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