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Later, when threadbare drawn suns had taken on reds, blues, and fat black charcoal.

He would look at the crows out the window. Still they cawed and hopped about but he could find nothing in them.

No hills ascended or rivers would flow where before the canv(more)
I may have to eat an extra huge helping of crow if what I think may happen actually happens.
Let's call this a Hurricane Update for all of you in the home audience who have been playing along. For those of you in the loop, I'd like to thank(more)
I envy you. You noisy black bastard. There you stand in the middle of the road, indignantly staring upward towards me, as if to say, “Fuck-off human. I'll shove my damn beak in your eye.” And you would too, if I gave you half-a-chance. I know it.