I've been known to, on occasion, put fingers to keyboard and bash out some very average fiction. You can read it here, but you probably shouldn't.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
A Few Lines
It's cold down here, behind the concrete spiral staircase
clinging like a leech to the bridge, with its drains permanently
blocked and its patina of grime
only London can produce. It's cold
down here.
No comments:
Post a Comment