The Traveler
First Post
The Mother of Atrocities smiled a whore's grin, her scrabbling, mewling children sweeping as a pale tide through the alley.
The Tiktokman chimed thrice, and was silent.
Dollars for dinars, dinars for deutschmarks, deutschmarks for dirham.
A dead raven was impaled on the subway tracks. The hobo prophets took it as a sign and moved en masse to the industrial district.
A miracle happened in the park. The statues were seen to weep a substance not unlike Chanel Number Five. Several cults to Our Lady of the Seven Year Itch gathered until they were dispersed by the police, rubber bullets and tear gas raining on their own personal Rapture.
A gash opened in Wall Street, and the civil works stigmata bled ledgers and soiled lingerie. It was quickly cordoned off, and those that witnessed it were taken to the debriefing camp.
The Twins claimed another victim, unaging girlish faces twisted in ecstatic rictuses as they dragged his carcass down into the catacombs.
The Viaduct Hangman practiced his art, sacrificing nine of his followers off the bridge in a most reverent salute to the God of Wednesday.
The Last Virgin decided to learn to fly. The hobo prophets read his entrails and proclaimed that the Boy King was born.
All the newspapers are in the last tongue. Babel's Tounge. Incomprehensible to all, but understood on the bowel level.
A voice of warning cried out in the urban wilderness, pleading against the plodding tide.
But everyone knows you don't listen to voices in the wilderness.
The Tiktokman chimed four times.
The Tiktokman chimed thrice, and was silent.
Dollars for dinars, dinars for deutschmarks, deutschmarks for dirham.
A dead raven was impaled on the subway tracks. The hobo prophets took it as a sign and moved en masse to the industrial district.
A miracle happened in the park. The statues were seen to weep a substance not unlike Chanel Number Five. Several cults to Our Lady of the Seven Year Itch gathered until they were dispersed by the police, rubber bullets and tear gas raining on their own personal Rapture.
A gash opened in Wall Street, and the civil works stigmata bled ledgers and soiled lingerie. It was quickly cordoned off, and those that witnessed it were taken to the debriefing camp.
The Twins claimed another victim, unaging girlish faces twisted in ecstatic rictuses as they dragged his carcass down into the catacombs.
The Viaduct Hangman practiced his art, sacrificing nine of his followers off the bridge in a most reverent salute to the God of Wednesday.
The Last Virgin decided to learn to fly. The hobo prophets read his entrails and proclaimed that the Boy King was born.
All the newspapers are in the last tongue. Babel's Tounge. Incomprehensible to all, but understood on the bowel level.
A voice of warning cried out in the urban wilderness, pleading against the plodding tide.
But everyone knows you don't listen to voices in the wilderness.
The Tiktokman chimed four times.
