(no subject)
ICELAND` || CHIB.MAY 2004
IT IS JUST THIN WIRE AROUND YOUR NECK. I NOTICED HIS BROKEN THIN FINGERS ON THE TILED FLOOR. YOUR BREATH WILL FILTER THROUGH TILES. YOUR BODY WAS SQUEEZED BY MARBLE WALLS. NO TIME TO THINK. STUFF WILL PENETRATE INTO YOUR VEINS. IT WILL PENETRATE WITH RECKLESS SPEED INTO YOUR MIND. WE WERE RUNNING THROUGH APPLE TREES AND DESERT. MY SON JUST GLANCED AROUND. FORCE OF THE WIND DIVIDED US. BUT I CAN'T BAR THE STUFF. MAD SYMPHONY WAS SPEEDING UP. AND I FELT, HOW CHILD'S BREATH BECAME TRANSFIXED. IT WAS JUST THIN WIRE AROUND HIS NECK. * .