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the sky is green and beautifully rythmic with the pulse of hearts dragging along the ocean bottom. the children huddle in the halls from the tornado asleep or worried about their lives, which will soon end in a great sucking of air that will make their tiny heads pop. but mary with the marble eyes stands at the end of the hall drawing the four horsemen of the apocolypse in the window fog with her finger. i tell her apocolyptic rider # 3 probably has a beak instead of a nose because that’s a lot scarier than a lump of malleable flesh. we draw them together and the sky moves in enormous circles circles circles above us.
by The JavaScript Source
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