Carrot on a prong

They left me naked on a stainless slab for like two hours. I was so cold I couldn't move or shout. It was a paradox that up until then I'd been experiencing a sucking gravity that wanted my life with it in the center of our planet. Was it so wrong that on an autopsy table, instead, you feel that the main stage is right there; if you are still alive on a surface of those properties, associations you are doubly present before a strong frizz of imminence that can beckon like a carrot on a prong.

Because I'd slipped into the trance of a dormuñeca, Ted reelie freaked. Because my axial staves had curled stubbornly around the mattress springs, he additionally found it hard to lift me in his arms but as always, championed. I'd trusted him because he was married to Peg. Maybe past domestic horror on the man side could be right cosmetic for the new girl. Also he knew to the last sprig of hay how it felt to minister rooster like to a bird wife, la monarca d'ensalago. At least I could show him tenderer buds of an ugly to come. 

But now he would let me be dead and move on to a new life. Maybe to him it's all the same when She Wakes up Alarmingly Knowing, Enlightened as the Sun. That means it's someone else, next head to pop up in a window. Telejournalism had forged him some terrible paradigms. Off camera presented a writhe pit of humanish complexities. Or he just wasn't thinking right, or the decay fomented by the acid rain of the industry had allowed to protrude a sickly primeval crimp, toad, appendix, fail, trip. The ages bade me forgive him it.

Connie

"I've helped Phyllis become more accepting of her body's changes."

"A scorpion knows that a human is never more fully on the go than when she is simultaneously screaming and slamming with her shoe a creature who seems to want her harm."