it's all a ruse, she promises you, and you're so close to believing. she looks away and you don't see any trace of desire writ in her. you play, parlay with ease, speak with mischief of gold, piled up around you.
OK.I confess here and now. I like books, a lot. I could quite happily spend the day browsing online and buying books in all their shiny newness, waiting to be worn-in with pages of words. I just purchased one new book, though it's three plays in one book so I don't feel too bad. Not to… Continue reading The Most Desperate of Desires