snippet from Altruism
She is a wisp of smoke. Her movement, comes from the hips, and shimmies upwards. And her body seems to lilt into elegant embrace with anything it comes in contact with. Maybe she is made of down. I've never quite enjoyed down. There's always that one sharp point of a feather that reaches out to jab you in your most vulnerable time. Perhaps that's the goose's last protest.


All this from a lean in the doorway.


The alarm let out its horrendous buzzing. What an awful slight against the senses. My brain panted, smacking its tongue against its lips, slobbered, and it's tail would wag, if it had one, at the sight of caffeine. I sipped coffee. I doubted the importance of a job. I contemplated running away with the girl. I decided I'd probably get bored with that too. I took a shower.


"Hello there!" His facade mocked my intelligence. And his over-enunciation mocked it more. "How are you, today?" I lifted my lips in obligatory smile. No teeth. The cart I was pushing had a broken wheel which seemed to be jammed by a massive amount of hair and dirt. How nice.


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