shutters lowered to half prevented the light the sun to illuminate the interior of the room. Intrusive shadow stretched its line along the white walls.
Luana, surrounded by some chairs Plastics collapsible, moving back and forth, kicking his feet with subtle micro-movements. The his disciples seated in chairs awaiting instructions in silence.
memories of adolescence readings assailed his mind. The harassment of writers harassed every night. Pieces of metal dipped in ink on the cheap. Words deformed hands and stubby black, toothless adverbs, adjectives hot, morbid metaphors, similes like ice water.
Luana stopped. He folded the corners of the mouth upward. He opened the envelope in her hand. He took the photos, each of which had a note attached with staples. He walked toward the center of the circle. He looked into the eyes of everyone present. Future writer forged by the mark of the manual and technology.
"Now is the long awaited moment. You're in or out? "
Each of the disciples stood up saying" Inside, "and sat down at his feet.
Luana raised his hands up, stretching your fingers to hit something of the atmosphere semi-darkness of the room.
"Go, you know what to do."
The disciples got up and left in single file. A long tentacle began to meander out of the den.
0 comments:
Post a Comment