Friday, January 11, 2002

bullwhip central

castigated and castrated, the wet marshall walked a quiet mile. chin swinging from side to side he tightened his stride and held the leash a little tighter. visions of swerving cars and cellar doors opening fiercely to the wild wind. a prisoner to surprise and fear. the evening's quietest moment when the dark is consumed by flurry, chaos and then silence.


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