cleaning up so well (jones_casey) wrote,
cleaning up so well

  • Music:

life is timing. and it's my time.


honest labor
in the fourth line, undivided, we see the dragon looking as if he were leaping up, but still in the deep.

the place was protected from ordinary intrusion by high walls, but rob descended within the enclosure and walked up to a man who was writing at a small table placed under the spreading branches of a large tree.
"is this president loubet?" he inquired, with a bow.
the gentleman looked up.
"my servants were instructed to allow no one to disturb me," he said, speaking in excellent english.
"it isn't their fault; i flew over the wall," returned rob. "the fact is," he added, hastily, as he noted the president's frown, "i have come to save the republic; and i haven't much time to waste."

to see the sorcerers at work was priceless, and i called in the faculty of Apemama.

thenceforward, he sat all day over the fire in the private room,
gnawing his nails; there he dined, sitting alone with his fears,
the waiter visibly quailing before his eye; and thence, when the
night was fully come, he set forth in the corner of a closed cab,
and was driven to and fro about the streets of the city. he, i
say--i cannot say, i. that child of hell had nothing human;
nothing lived in him but fear and hatred. And when at last,
thinking the driver had begun to grow suspicious, he discharged
the cab and ventured on foot, attired in his misfitting clothes,
an object marked out for observation, into the midst of the
nocturnal passengers, these two base passions raged within him
like a tempest. he walked fast, hunted by his fears, chattering
to himself, skulking through the less-frequented thoroughfares,
counting the minutes that still divided him from midnight. once a
woman spoke to him, offering, i think, a box of lights. he smote
her in the face, and she fled.

it seemed a long time he had to wait before he heard a voice singing in the darkness of the avenue. he knew the voice to be the boatswain's; but it was strange how drunken it appeared upon a sudden.
next, the man himself came stumbling into the light of the lamp.

the band was electrical.

these two men--one at the summit of honor and of his science, enjoying an immense fortune and an immense reputation; the other a humble omega, having neither fortune nor fame--became intimate friends.

that's all for now,
more on...

  • (no subject)

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  • another new one!

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    that this morning's mla on arthurian legends was not (if i had read closely) a presentation, but rather a roundtable? a roundtable!!! oh, the…

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