Freewrite: “11”
Saturday, August 08, 2009
11. Two pillars standing on end. White bone, china, smooth, polished, smothered glass. A surface that swallows. White bellied little beasts. Inch in and baby’s breaths through their yellow beaks. A swallow’s call beckons visitors home. A stranger at the door, a burglar in the house. The whites of eyes… More

