( via / via )

Gas Station.

"Fool am I,
sad as I'm aloof."

--@Anthony_Etherin

" '[W]e live in very confused, confusing and dangerous times, and fiction, which is a kind of log of these times,' she wrote in 1982, 'changes its nature and expands and sucks in material from all manner of places and from all manner of styles and genres to be able to adequately describe ourselves to ourselves at all kinds of levels'."

"Defier of Gravity

Up is his down, · his easy path,
Down his downfall. · Death can win him
Through his own gorging, · this guest’s custom
When all unbidden · he breezes in
And loud, arrogant, · eats poor wretches
Out of house and home. · But heaped tables,
Meats in abundance, · manage no more
To ease his hunger · than empty ones,
And dinner over · he dies on the spot,
Or unappeased · prowls to the neighbors’,
Merry fellow, · for more glutting,
Then, dead or alive, · leaves his hosts
In the black, bankrupt, · brief though his stay was,
A monster, clearly, · missed by no one,
His rude arrival · rued and lamented.
How different, though, · when, duly met,
Calm and engaging, · he graces a room,
The loved center · of circled talk,
Fed, though not petted, · a peerless uniter.
At length, when left, · he lingers all night,
Dying, paling, · till people stir
And a breathed greeting · brings back his smile."

--Donald Mace Williams [fire]

The speculating rooks...