The Movement of Fear
I sleep on a patch of rocks where the library once stood. In the morning I walk back to my cell smelling of urine and fear. I love my little hole.
“Somewhere the world is beautiful, and outside it there is no salvation.”
— Albert Camus
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About istsfor manity
i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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