Area: talk.bizarre Date: 16 Oct 93 01:14:31 From: nikolai kingsley To: all Subj: good night
ENOUGH of this net.flogging. Enough. My lower back is killing me.
I try to wipe the image of dozens of gridiron players made of porcelain, pure white skins one and one-half millimetres thick, running towards each other, eyes wide and terrified behind the face-guards of their helmets, racing towards destruction, from my mind. Enough. My lover went to bed half an hour ago, and the fact that she's been waiting for me to join her, tempers, somewhat, the things that I've been writing.
"Natasha, yat asagi!"
- Turkish for "Natasha, jump into bed!"
No. Enough ... enough. Not even the vision of The Wayward Nun selling sunglasses for your third eye will tempt me.
The bedroom is scented with some kind of incense. The low lighting reveals her form, draped in black sheets, her dark eyes glittering at me from the shadows. A few potential, vague net.thoughts drift by my frontal lobes.
The Man Who Shat Liberty Valence
Daffodildo
A t-shirt: "I'll be bisexual NEXT week, too"
And they are gone. I remove my clothes and join her.
She grins, stretches, her naked body pale. Over her left breast, silver letters, modern, sweeping, stylised, streamlined, like the plastic logos affixed to cars, sort of like this:
"E.T.A.? Empire of Terra Australis?" I ask.
"Electronic Turbo Affection," she purrs.
"Wau,", I reply, sinking into her arms.
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