Chapin City Blues

Writing is writing whether done for duty, profit, or fun.

No one knows where she came from. Just that she appeared in Night Ocean one day. Hollow stare scratched upon vacant eyes – black holes into unnameable galaxies. You can find her lingering. Often in the corners of rooms just within your peripheral. Wisps of golden sand hair, tangled with seaweed. Cracked skin. Coral for …

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“It’s a fucking ziggurat,” Mackie spits out. “Look the way it towers out of fucking nowhere.” Anderson just smiles through bloodstained teeth. The three of them, some psychotropic fight club, had been at it for hours. At the penultimate round, Anderson reached around the poor fuck’s neck and sunk his teeth in. Moves like that …

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 So much blood from such a tiny little hole Could be something is messing from inside me. Could be that all these years of anti-religion, I’ve forgotten how the game was played. Could be that someone in this whole shit-faced world is in the wrong. Could be that, for the first time, it might not …

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