(no subject)

Jan 15, 2008 00:18

After months already of immersion, I was beginning to befriend the notion that natural human behaviour patterns simply did not apply in this laughable knockoff of reality.

It was almost sickening, how devoid of any of the juiciest drama the populace seemed to be. Where were the cheating hubbies, the gaybashers, the paedos? In fact, the only acquaintance I’d made who continued to coddle my heart with faith in the human race was a sixteen year old skinhead. (Charming lad, don’t get me wrong, but there wasn’t nearly enough mischief screwed into that scrawny lil’ frame to go around.)

Anyway. For lack of a more productive hobby, I took to teaching myself the various sundries of recreational exercise. Swimming, for instance. It looked like a gas, let me tell ya, but from what I’d observed, there was something more to it than the useless flailing I attempted off the shore one sunny afternoon.

Mercifully, my only earthly audience appeared to inhabit the tiny packet of fur folded up in my shirt on the beach. Until I’d decided what to do with the thing, it’d earn its keep as a paperweight.

[ The Devil got a kitty for NDPD. Please, laugh at him. That is all. ]

rictor, bob melnikov, lucifer, trevor, lara croft, father donald callahan, trance gemini, jill langston, glinda upland, raistlin majere

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