the crime comes last of all

an exercise in blurring the truth.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

don't flash that stupid smile. don't ask me.

She had her very first blood test yesterday afternoon. Mononucleosis may be imminent, she's eagerly awaiting the results.

In the distance, wolves.

OK Go - Don't Ask Me

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

three point one four one five nine two six five. . .

She can't sleep, that's the first thing she notices. She's always exhausted, never sleepy, and when she does go to bed the most she gets is a scant two hours of slow-wave, with maybe one REM cycle in the middle.

Wesley gave her chamomile tea, told her in that timid-yet-kindly-yet-lecherous voice of his that it would help her sleep. She drinks it and feels tired, so maybe it's working. Or maybe it's not, since she was tired before she brewed the tea, warm and tasting like plants with Pylean names she's tried to forget mixed with honey.

She wishes the buzz of thinking in her head would slow down, for just a minute. She can't control it, finds herself drifting in and out of a hypnagogic state while she reviews gymnosperm sexual cycles and what she ate for breakfast yesterday mixed with fantasy hands and mouths - CharlesCordeliaAngelWesley - between her thighs. All she wants to do is still it, even slow it like dying concentric ripples on a pond, for six hours or so.

Friday, April 02, 2004

he looks like that guy you like from "breaker high."

Tomorrow she'll be imbibing tequila with her friends, big bright lemons and the tang of salt, hopefully making up for the Courtney Love experience she had last Friday night.

She rolled up the rim and won a donut today. Life is beautiful.