Thursday, March 24, 2011

hubristic of me.

Dust and books line the walls, piled on the furniture, floor, everywhere, blocking the light from the flickering lantern. Thin and hungry and brilliant, eyes red-tinged and lit, voice squeaky from disuse, lips cracked from the cold, Faustus screaming at the heavens-
"Why won't you talk ? Why so unreasonable ?"

silence.

"My Soul, what price?"

silence.

But it turned out not to be a monopsony.
Omniscience, did you say ?

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