Carpet crawled
There was snow under my naked feet. I walked the path to the train station and back. An ice-packed mile of cracked sidewalk. Just for the fuck of it. Ever try it? It felt amazingly cold. How cold? Let me tell you...
If the slightly warm hand of a certain woman would have casually nicked a nerve-ending of my hot velvet granite spectularness, I would have shot an atmospheric arc of awareness across the sky like a glimmering auroa.
Now THAT'S a short story. Well, not necessarily short, if you're gonna read into it like that.
3 comments:
"Hot velvet granite spectularness"
Wow... That's like PK meets Barbara Cartland. PK Cartland.
;) Did you get my message?
{BTW, very good writing, as always!}
Hey. Your atmospheric arc of awareness got in my eye! You really should have taken care of all that granite spectacularness earlier...
Cool! I was aiming for 33 degrees latitude, 112 degrees longitude.
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