‘Fiddle, Gerald. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. My Mom is hell bent on having the biggest, most beautiful house in the neighborhood, my college education be damned. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray.
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This video was uploaded to suzume-news.club on 22-09-2024 00:37:07
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