Three months later from the Blue Grass and shadows of vampire fangs hide among letters and stacks of postage flaps and franking stamps. Red Cross calling with a note about the taste test.
Passing the pint around, the score card presents the bleeding score from a meeting with a needle and draining tube moons in the past. Minutes go on for about 10 or so, the arm leaking into a satchel as a woman across the way pumps out plasma into a centrifuge.
Plasma, haemoglobin and all that iron punching flavour pumping through the heart coming back to read on the card: Coursing rich in O. Positively so.
Friday, 30 November 2007
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Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
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Writing gets tiring when you stop