Metabiotica

Alexandre Órion

2 comments:

Jeremy said...

I was thirteen, but I looked more like fourteen, I had a bike and where ever I went, an artist would preceed and paint footsteps in my path, which I would purposely avoid, till one day I realised he had expected this all along, and so had been guiding my path afterall, and I became angry and made a telephone call to the police.

As I made the call, the artist sketched a queue of waiting furies. As I emerged, I became nothing more than boredom, and the full stop fell.

Björn Eskil said...

You took the words right out of my mouth.