Saturday, 29 June 2013

Salad Talk

'Misery Misery guts! A pillow fuck - off he/went just then back as dominoes-not even touched his Warburton - or Warrington sale sharks Swahili shan't I' she walked in a locked tension of control confusion, orange t-shirt, white jeans one size to big. Her black face gleaming help white eyes stare into things abound in her own mind. Knot had untangled – salad talk streaming out to the amusement of a group boys. Kicking up uncontrolled testosterone -easy prey. Their own unconscious Id screaming back inept phrases at her bewildered self - 'suck my dick nigga! - crazy spaz, fuck of back to lalala land nigger Africa paki ha-ha ha-ha mad-muslin -come on suck my...!', their voices distant now. She passed like a defunct automation unaware of them. Herself soon to be scribbling out paper documents, and be picked up for sure. But she passed everyday that week. Same route. After that nothing.

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