As I wake up naked in a barren dune sea, I have nothing other than my own consciousness and a strange journal to keep me company. In it, are entries from various writers from different times and places. Each telling its own story, as if writing its own journal. Me, I'm just the storyteller, telling their stories to you.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Blank
The pages are now blank. Only the old writings are seen, slowly eroding to whiteness.
No comments:
Post a Comment