We'll eat your steam and lap up your blood. But first, we'll drink your screams
When you write, you want to get rid of the world, do you not? Of course you do. When you're writing, you're creating your own worlds.
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When you write, you want to get rid of the world, do you not? Of course you do. When you're writing, you're creating your own worlds.
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There was a muffled pop, the sound of a small pumpkin exploding in a microwave oven.Morris cut the wheel to the left and there was another bump as the Biscayne went back into the parking area. He looked in the mirror and saw that Curtis's head was gone.Well, no. Not exactly. It was there, but all spread out. Mooshed. No loss of talent in that mess. Morrie thought.
At three in the morning the gaudy paint is off that old whore, the world, and she has no nose and a glass eye. Gaiety becomes hollow and brittle, as in Poe's castle surrounded by the Red Death. Horror is destroyed by boredom. Love is a dream.
I knew there were no ghosts in there, but on the other hand, what if there were?
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