Polluted_Mind
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Nov 25, 2012
- Messages
- 187
Flying buttresses and rib-cage corridors accompany blank academic faces with the occasional genius, only ever identified by a spastic grin. The sandstone room was like a microwave, not because of any untoward flux in temperature but rather the accumulation of various odors. There was, in no particular order: tobacco, rum, ale, fetid clothes with just a hint of urine. An empty battery pack from a smoke alarm dangled from the roof.
He awoke to this not in a daze, nor with any vigor, but rather passed into consciousness with a sort of post-amphetamine bewilderment. Bipolar colors shifted back and forth as if reality was unsure of itself, naked behind a clover-leaf. A dour arrangement of text-books and other items lacking any immediate significance were scattered on the small wooden desk, all deforested as if someone had either assailed them in a rage, or left them to neglect. He preferred not to remember which.
The heavy door opened without a sound, and it was only the cleaning lady's look of distress and embarrassment which reminded him of the girl straggling his side, her unshaven pussy prickling gently against his knee.
He awoke to this not in a daze, nor with any vigor, but rather passed into consciousness with a sort of post-amphetamine bewilderment. Bipolar colors shifted back and forth as if reality was unsure of itself, naked behind a clover-leaf. A dour arrangement of text-books and other items lacking any immediate significance were scattered on the small wooden desk, all deforested as if someone had either assailed them in a rage, or left them to neglect. He preferred not to remember which.
The heavy door opened without a sound, and it was only the cleaning lady's look of distress and embarrassment which reminded him of the girl straggling his side, her unshaven pussy prickling gently against his knee.
