Rot in hell, you old bastard. Also, happy birthday. I hope you choke on a piece of cake and die.
Spiders, cicadas, millipedes, butterflies…they’re always locked in a life-or-death struggle, but they’re much more innocent than we humans.
Some pretended not to notice the violet walls. Was huge already. An ungainly sprawl, renovations grafted onto renovations. But construction crews always labored.
I am alone now, but I was alone even when they lived here by the thousands, so I am used to the experience.
“Oh, Nothing” will forever stand out in my oeuvre as the first piece of my writing to receive print publication. It is also my least favorite of everything I have written…
Every life ends, Samuel, so your average plonker spends theirs in fear.