fromaroom's profile Peter / Male / Member since October 2007 / Last seen 3 months ago
The black dogs are losing my scent; I hear one of them’s become a guide dog for the blind man down the street. I’ve started dreaming at night. In the old story (the only one he ever wrote) the idealist worked in the mortuary, prettifying corpses with chemicals. He worked hard then sank into torpor: a eunuch daydreamer on a stingy island. But this new breath of wind is blowing the dust off my desk, the island is budding with words and images.
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- Published a new blog post: And wonder what I’ve said1 day ago
- Published a new blog post: Joyfully1 day ago
- Published a new blog post: Laughter1 day ago
- Published a new blog post: The strange in the common1 day ago
- Published a new blog post: Failure1 day ago
- Published a new blog post: Overflow1 day ago
- Published a new blog post: Violently bored1 day ago
- Published a new blog post: Closed up2 days ago
- Published a new blog post: The last resort6 days ago
- Published a new blog post: Have I spoken?6 days ago
- Published a new blog post: As I look down8 days ago
- Published a new blog post: No one home15 days ago
- Published a new blog post: At each fresh attempt15 days ago
- Published a new blog post: If this continues15 days ago
- Published a new blog post: Shoot me now16 days ago
