nontitled

ours was a foolish quest, running the gamut of gems through gomez, wisconsin. hurly, in his powder blue pickup, was a friend of mine from high-school. we'd been drinking beers since three. creedence came on the radio and we felt like gettin' out of the house. hurly and I will never forget that day.

justin

/

there is squalor. there is love. "you have a backslash fetish", he moans, as my fingers tap the keyboard. almost lightly. only I know. splayed and naked, showing a soul or a patch of red pubic hair. wandering san francisco for the first time as a resident. wanting it. knowing it. being virginal again.

molly

Somewhere in Oregon

Rough, meaty hands stripped the plastic drawstring bag from her grasp as she fell to the ground.

Her smile elegantly pursued the attacker's withdrawing footsteps.

She was the Spider Lady -- tourists visited from nearby counties to gawk at her collection of venemous eight legged assassins.

Plastic drawstring bags are excellent for carrying Black Widows.

todd