Decomposition: The Artist Turns His Gaze Away from the Empty Cup of Herbal Tea and and Languishes upon the Lounge of Fluffy Literature while the Fish of the Unconscious Offers the Fruits of Occam's Razor.
Peter, you wicked, wicked boy; that's a cruel comment to leave on the blog of someone post-40. :-) For a moment I laughed, and then the dwindling echos of the laughter cleared, like ripples on water after some breath has touched it. The water stilled, and I saw the face of ennui reflected back at me. An ice rimed pool would have been kinder.
Decomposition: The Artist Turns His Gaze Away from the Empty Cup of Herbal Tea and and Languishes upon the Lounge of Fluffy Literature while the Fish of the Unconscious Offers the Fruits of Occam's Razor.
4 comments:
loool
But you already gave it a caoption, so it seems anticlimatic to ask for others. Repost?
"Help, it's fall and I can't get up."
pdg
Peter, you wicked, wicked boy; that's a cruel comment to leave on the blog of someone post-40. :-) For a moment I laughed, and then the dwindling echos of the laughter cleared, like ripples on water after some breath has touched it. The water stilled, and I saw the face of ennui reflected back at me. An ice rimed pool would have been kinder.
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