On Receiving CriticismIke! Ike! My glister, my Master! Imagine his radix as thus:On Receiving Criticism
1923, White Russia. Five intellectuals accused of antisocialist cogitations with intent to realize, imprisoned in some ersatz cave. Days tick by without sun or sustenance. The men play Go, balled clay shaped into disks. The hairs on their cheeks and liver-spotted-scalps grow and curl. Their eyes learn to glide, absorbing light off the scales of wriggling silverfish. They listen over sounds of dripping water to their captors shouting totalitarian agitprop and clicking Broomhandle Mausers. They anticipate their deaths. In turn, they concoct a getaway. Using an ancient Orient med
guess who this is.
someone who shares your name with some slight spelling adjustments.
--
grayt!
Previous PageNext Page