In a Princedom by the Sea
Cherished confrere, in drafting prose that secretes secrets, the humble writer fain pulls silence from the sky, developing histrionic phrases for agency. It is coherence in disguise forged by mimetic congruencies and the paranoid insistence that transgressive text forms a congress of instantiation. As expiation to the virtuosic interpreter of ciphers who understands the transparency of primly routine pretension, allow me to adduce some choice signposts tarnished only by the lightest curare.
Having seen TMNT, Beowulf and Grendel, and The Russians Are Coming, I overdosed on time and walked to the river. There were two old men holding hands on a bench. Upon noticing my presence they cracked their grasp with flashing fingertips. "Desire invests objects with appeal," I considered jealously. Hours earlier, I had discovered a parade of artifice marching with casual gratuity. I felt neither betrayed nor concerned about the sanctity of truth, which was a revelation in itself.
Having seen TMNT, Beowulf and Grendel, and The Russians Are Coming, I overdosed on time and walked to the river. There were two old men holding hands on a bench. Upon noticing my presence they cracked their grasp with flashing fingertips. "Desire invests objects with appeal," I considered jealously. Hours earlier, I had discovered a parade of artifice marching with casual gratuity. I felt neither betrayed nor concerned about the sanctity of truth, which was a revelation in itself.