Unbeautiful survey of trivia, huzzah. |
The best way to waste three hours?"Waste" implies something that isn't a valid use of time, so I can't say sex. So I guess it'll have to be click-clicking Boberto the gay necromancer to his doom. I ca...
Posted by Filth on Tue, 14 Nov 2006 02:22:00 PST |
Impetuous fools, still giggling |
There weren't any flowers, music or dandy clothes. In bed, candles and a few words spoken, and none of the rest of that stuff mattered.Little one: Almost there. The days will fly, promise.I have no id...
Posted by Filth on Fri, 24 Feb 2006 08:30:00 PST |
contractual alienism |
I've been reading a lot on the subject of self-sufficiency and transcendence over the material. I've read material from great minds throughout history regarding the spiritual elevation of the self and...
Posted by Filth on Sun, 19 Feb 2006 03:47:00 PST |
There's just no romance anymore. |
I had my hand between her thighs for the better part of an hour. My thumb was moving, very, very slightly. Just enough to make her unsettled. She kept trying to move. Different tactics. A pretty moan,...
Posted by Filth on Fri, 17 Feb 2006 09:10:00 PST |
Good enough to steal, squealer. |
Every tender phrase has a razor chaser. There's a good reason for it, but nobody ever asks outright. It occurred to me long ago that the only people that want to know find what they need on the other ...
Posted by Filth on Fri, 17 Feb 2006 09:04:00 PST |
I remember how they used to stare at the ground. |
Hot off the belt in the abattoir, we horrified a fair few spectators. I've been spoiled by silence for so long, thoughts whispered sometimes, co-thought and unspoken most of the time, we never had to ...
Posted by Filth on Fri, 17 Feb 2006 09:02:00 PST |
Spilling venom would be a waste. |
They crept in, little by little, dropping in on silent feet through the transom and the tiny windows that lined the factory walls. Every lithe figure brought enough heavy, gravity bending magnetic for...
Posted by Filth on Fri, 17 Feb 2006 09:01:00 PST |
inversion part 2 |
When stalking through the streets in the small, cold hours between last night and here we go again, the reminders of what you consider life on earth are few. You could be anywhere in the multiverse fo...
Posted by Filth on Fri, 17 Feb 2006 08:52:00 PST |
inversion part 1 |
The bite marks on the young apprentice. The hidden savour of life. The jangling flatterers flailing to interface. An abundance of ghostly gladness. An unassuming woman with the manner of a quiet child...
Posted by Filth on Fri, 17 Feb 2006 08:51:00 PST |
