We brought a dead fox into our house.
My sad mother said, “We can’t leave it there, not like that.” She tidied it up, sweetened its death mask.
I felt sick but sad too, just like mother said.
The fleas thought, “This is the best thing that’s happened to us.”
Richard lives in England and enjoys wondering where his readers are.
Shoes have started to follow me around the Internet. What do they know about me already? I don’t want to touch them because I know what will happen if I do. It will only encourage them. There will be more of them. Legions of them, marching marching into my eyes.
Richard Neville is trying to write something every day. Today it was this. Only this.