(no subject)

Egg!! Drop your soup!! Hahaha! You'll never take me alive coppers! This is your last chance! You're surrounded by crispy fried fats! Do your worst coppers! However, I feel it my duty as an egg and a gentlevillain to inform you that there is an MSG bomb under your blue-uniformed buttocks, and the timer's ticking. *Gasps* Haha! Run! Run coppers, as if your very buttocks depended on it, for, verily, they do!

Dragonfly

Maren knelt before the woman, taking her wrinkled hands in hers. There was no reaction, just the same unfocused staring, mind trapped somewhere else.

Everyone at the school who was ready had already tried to locate her–the room had been left undisturbed to preserve any clues about the object of meditation. There wasn't much–she was facing a mostly featureless wall, nothing on her lap except her own folded hands. Everything obvious and many non-obvious foci had already been gone over many times–cracks in the wallboards, wood grain patterns, her hands, insects that might have been seen on the wall, a mouse, a button that might have fallen from her hands and rolled under the bed–nothing.

For five years she sat in the room during the day, tended by a triplet of caretakers. Each night, carried to bed.

What had everyone missed? What was the focus?

(no subject)

Blurbling Gullyfloggin,
O, how i love you,
Ah, what a spanking you are
Eh, so cheesy and green are your toes
Uh, your garden of pies is admirable
Ih, good day to you

(no subject)

Tart, lemon-coated children smile sidelong at you, powdered-sugar circles on some of their cheeks. The bubbling susurrus of their minds is disconcerting, and they laugh about your expression, tho not aloud. A couple of them have those awful interchangeable snout jobs, with various limp or wriggling replacements for their noses.


Startled passers-by crept into my sandwich, and who could fault them? I could. Get out!