micahsaul

A few of the entries from the journal I’ve been keeping:

Scuffmarks from a million shopping bags and suitcases act as the worn stone steps in our city’s church of transit. Blue, psuedo-tweed upholstered pews line the aisle, sheltering the weary traveller.
+++
The sort of man that folds his paperbacks in half… his library has scoliosis.
+++
There’s something about black tights with metallic shimmer, the indie chick’s chainmail.

Fuck, so I’m working on a story. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll post some of it. Sleep now.

Blogged with Flock