Infallible Flammable Inflammable
Friday, February 5, 2010 at 9:22PM 
by Kate Russell
Unamused, he sat in the easy chair, stiff with dogma, eyes burning a hole in the television.
The godless comedy and the laughter of the theatre of people who watched it, prodded the caged rage in his heart. By his birth certificate, he was nineteen, but the drawstring-like lines around his taught, disapproving mouth, gave the impression of someone far older. Blob would not find this sinfulness funny. Where was their shame?
Swail |
Post a Comment |
Writing 






