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The line begins to blur. The path. In front of my feet. Beneath. Not quite there. Cracks smooth to fuzz. Distorted like a pool. Not wet, a mirage.
Eyes. Not quite round. In groups. Two and four. Looking down. Read the white as words. Sell my friends.
Lights bathed. Like a beach. Derelict, but present. Dice rattle.
I was the devil. For a day.
Liked it.
Would perhaps have been more effective if you'd written a build-up to it then had the disjoined style as the effect of the drugs.
And as the judge, I can only praise such a short entry*
[S]*this isn't a reference to your penis. Which is amazing. Thanks
May do a proper something. Who knows?
:D
In Ribber's office now.
Will there be a second attempt, Rick-fase?
There was a story there somewhere.
I think. :x