Welcome. Anonymous Author holds a mirror to the face of humanity, asking what it really means to be human,
and in doing so blurs the line between what is good and bad writing.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
People who bother me.
People clothed in synthetic material who stand in front of empty fireplaces and rock back and forth from toe to heel, musing aloud about the length and severity of the approaching winter and speculating what the change in season may bring in terms of discomfort, misfortune or unfulfilled promise, hinting that the fire should be lit by someone else, bother me.
