books and stuff
I am an ancient leathery tome hidden behind a trap door at the bottom of a musty, cobwebbed dungeon. A piercing light dances across my aged face. I wince groggily, like a hungover owl awaking from a quarter century of blissful unperturbness, except, you know, I’m a book doing that. GODDAMMIT. It’s Nicolas Fucking Cage and his poor, overworked flashlight. “Get out of here,...
She was a large, boneless woman who draped herself like an old blanket over the...– I’ve missed reading. Long live Winter Break. (from The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay)