Monday, January 4, 2010

Suit Up

It only seemed puzzling to Fran.  But she could tell it was of an ordinary trust.  Binding hammers in such a fashion that only the splinters would leave marks.  Wise to the the touch, and fascinated by the sheer mention of it.  Melancholy in its highest form caused by the smallest of cravings.  Reliability that claimed Henry the Gatekeeper.  Frost, tingling with a dry crispness set the tone for what could only be called motionless.  Pleasantly thinking aloud would just not work this time.  You know? Will Swiss time feel any different?

Miked




Published with permission.  Copyright 2004 Dunbridge Truckstop Global Media

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