[oedipa Maas] Awoke At Last To Find

Oh, This Beer Here Is Cold, Cold And Hop-bitter, No Point Coming Up For Air, Gulp, Till It's All--hahhhh.

Not Me, Paranoia's The Garlic In Life's Kitchen, Right, You Can Never Have Too Much.

Perhaps Its Familiarity Rendered It Temporarily Invisible To You.

For A Moment She'd Wondered If The Seal Around Her Sockets Were Tight Enough To Allow The Tears Simply To Go On And Fill Up The Entire Lens Space And Never Dry. She Could Carry The Sadness Of The Moment With Her That Way Forever, See The World Refracted Through Those Tears, Those Specific Tears, As If Indices As Yet Unfound Varied In Important Ways From Cry To Cry.

Get Too Conceptual, Too Cute And Remote, And Your Characters Die On The Page.