The Songstone, Canto I: The Tower is published today. A free copy from: Smashwords But Kora sat unmoving, in great magic. The walls, her home, faded about her. Warmth went; all alone and on a freezing plain, dressed in a tunic, sharp knife in her belt, bow on her shoulder, arrows in a quiver behind. Her eyes gleamed; a pale cold light, ˈlɪmpɪd ɪn ˈdʌlnəs She looked around. Away, at vision’s limit, a dark shape rose above the plain: a Tower, the only thing in all this barren place: no bird flew, no grass grew. Despite the wool she shivered. Breath-clouds hung in the raw air, ˈsləʊli dɪˈzɒlvɪŋ Then in eye’s corner something moved. She turned to gaze across the Waste and saw a Cloud. Far, almost straight behind her as she faced the Tower, it too reared up black and sheer. Unlike the Tower, moving, whirling, wisps trailing their tentacles around a core, ˈtwɪstɪŋ ɪnˈseɪnli
Posts
SMS from Shanghai
Hope you can fuck me often, Mr. Big. My little sweet vagina needs a dig. (我的小逼不能没有大先生)
Biking in Beijing
It's minus 5 outside: leathers, tough shoes; a warmer bed awaits in Dongba's stews.
New Year's Day
A whispering day, alone with thoughts and whisky. Tomorrow call a wench: I'm feeling frisky.
