From my office window I search for the way home.
“Where Next?” asked Iain, draining the last of his pint. Everyone looked to me as if this was my idea or something.
Drinks on the bar top
Ritual pending, inhibition erasure waiting in liquid form.
He can see the social hierarchy at play around the pool already; the young and the beautiful in the pool itself, the less successful pushed to the edge, but he reminds himself that there are no true outsiders here.
There are no Elephants left on Earth.
As metaphors go, it’s not a bad one. Seeing the Elephant used to bestow some sort of veterancy on you; that you’d been out there, and seen something wonderful. Or terrible, I guess, if you’re talking about a war.
Every night I ride the skies on my dragon. I soar in the wind, flash through the layers of cloud, leap across great distances in a heartbeat. I am a friend and rival to the great airliners that cruise the heavens, a consort of stars
Oh, razorblade. Nice. Should be a doddle this week. Sure I’ll just knock this out quickly and go get something to eat. …. Look, you’ve been staring at this picture for an hour. What have you written? Something! You’ve deleted it again. …wasn’t very good….