Friday, June 03, 2011

Thousand: Three Hundred Ninety-Five

question. He feels his mouth move and. But he doesn’t hear his own voice. Maybe it’s just too noisy with the demolition going on. And the screaming. The dog wriggles out from under him and trots across the gully to the cave. The soft opening has been considerably widened by the passage of something large and rough. Or many things. There are round indented prints all around the cave, as though a ball has been pounded on the sand. He looks closer, it’s more an oblong, and here on a sharp stone long hairs have caught. As the dog goes

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