I practice English. I only pay for what I need. With regard to equity and its ovoid, stasis, in the compulsive battle over separating compulsion from externalizing desire..

Through the door on top of which words.. ?

My alter ego comes home from finishing school. She’s wearing khakis and a red T-shirt and my new backpack stuffed with graphs. She wants more than a group-regulated ethos for the manufacture of comedy and verse. But, little one, auteur-ship is a social construct.

Reverberant, lapidary Stormy stepped into another room. “I’m not going anywhere void of menace.”