Night Mare Ride
She was head-deep in the paint, pearly globs of cadmium white cloying
at the back of her mouth and clogging her already full throat with
information. The horse she'd dragged up out of the metaphor tide this
visual gateway had offered was hard to handle - a fiesty mare,
nightmare. This was the only way to travel though. Paint dripping off
her body, through her head, and bang -- she was out travelling through
No comments:
Post a Comment