At some level they all knew they were bad and that the only good would be to wipe each other out and to enjoy doing it.
There was also thanks to the shiv an intense respect for the individual spirit in each putrid violent body, sprites who were challenged to but could not become angels and were unavoidably and irredeemably sucked into the gravity of their hollow pelves, long fingers, and tiny manus.
"List of lists, I've lost my license." Jan spoke with her mind only, but it was real language.
Peg: "You funny."
"I mean I really los... oh, damn."
"Ya they make them so thin they can get lost in a clump of pycnofibes on your ass."
Both: "Hahahahahaha!"
Jan: You know, Peg: I could just swoop around with you forever.
Peg: That's what this is, this moment.
Their wings were on slow beat two, three times. There were no peaked or valleyed panoramas, just some yellow mist and greenish floor which both stretched out and curved down as if over a globe through all the angles they could see out of.
My dorsoventral flap is really chafed.
I like the vet-mix salve down at Friends' Urgency Hangar. It's practically a spa.
Ya, I need to get my W.A.S.T.E. stamped soon anyway. I'll get the lavender. I know which one you mean.
The day they started giving out Waiver and Acceptance of Social Toxicity Estimates to K's was the day they say we got our freedom.
Better psych care anyway.
I say volca to that.
K's fly spread eagle.
Trans. by Phyliss (embedded)
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