I Knew the Topography of His Face Just by Shouting and Feeling the Reverberations
Show me where to go, he said out of defiance for the moment in which time was malleable and fat minutes were consumed by wayward, languid hours. And all I could do for the time being was sit there excruciatingly anxious for this to pass, so it would trans-morph into a butterfly and escape into the deep blue photon-filled sky, away from all this, all that we know which could be true, but is most likely a prism of co-modified consumerism and therefore likely false.
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Author's Note
This micro has changed from over time, like most things, is a prism of the ego.
Other stories by Rabbit Angstrom
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damn, amy, that title. your titles, always. only darryl price does (did) titles like you at fictionaut and perhaps ann bogle...the piece itself wonderful and not only because of the escaping butterfly.
Love this, the title, the language, every single thing about it. *
'..strainer/prism of co-modified consumerism ..'
Being repetition is a main trope in pm fiction, this one is mainly interesting in being so attention-getting [/blatant?].
Note your pieces are extremely short. Am wondering if this technique will manifest itself over a series, and if so, how.
Thank you so much for all your comments. It means the world to me, folks, the world. I apologize for taking so long in replying.
Eamon. I am sorry it has taken me so long in replying. I am trying to currently put together a book of shorts currently...not going so well is commonplace for the first time writer...as all can imagine. Thank you for your time and commennt.