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botte

short on words

... of course, when you’re standing naked by the fire, there is no real space for words.

i saw him shot in the night on my block

I see the man shooting: dark jeans, white sneakers, and bald as a baby, swinging the pistol wildly, hoping for luck or God to direct his slugs. 

prelude to existential horror

...do not read this, this is not meant for you to read...

what dreams?

I will show you.  I will show you soon.  I will show you now.

a doctor of the flesh

“Thank you, Jimmy.”

exercising my house

It's the polite thing to do.

shadowland

Maybe a physical shadow – skin cells left that have combined their DNA with the tendriled confusion of the clovered outfield...

river monster

"There's blood in the water all over the place around here," Clem told me.

we worms remember

His fingers were soft, his lips delicate.

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