Handle

May 30, 2013 § Leave a comment

There’s a man by the Choke with a turn-handle organ and he plays as the shadows walk by. There’s a monkey beside him with an old, rusty cup and she dances for the copper they throw.

Sometimes he wonders whether he turns the handle or the handle is now turning him but the song is near ending and the monkey’s stopped dancing so he puts the machine in reverse.

.esrever ni enihcam eht stup eh os gnicnad deppots s’yeknom eht dna gnidne raen si gnos eht tub mih gninrut won si eldnah eht ro eldnah eht snrut eh rehtehw srednow eh semitemoS

.worht yeht reppoc eht rof secnad ehs dna puc ytsur ,dlo na htiw mih ediseb yeknom a s’erehT .yb klaw swodahs eht sa syalp eh dna nagro eldnah-nrut a htiw ekohC eht yb nam a s’erehT

There’s a man by the Choke with a turn-handle organ and he plays as the shadows walk by. There’s a monkey beside him with an old, rusty cup and she dances for the copper they throw.

Sometimes he wonders whether he turns the handle or the handle is now turning him but the song is near ending and the monkey’s stopped dancing so he puts the machine in reverse.

Sleep, Sleep & Do Not Wake

March 11, 2013 § Leave a comment

I’ve never left the City. Not really. Nobody that I know of has ever left the City. It’s not like you can’t go, there’s nothing to stop you, but…well, it’s just that nobody ever does. I sometimes wonder if there’s anything else outside the City. I walked for a whole day once, down past Riddle’s Bed and over the Choke out into the Fen but you could still see buildings and smoke rising up all around. When it’s foggy you can go there and it feels like there’s nobody else left alive but then I worry about Fen Dogs so I don’t stay there for that long.

Sleep, Sleep & Do Not Wake

It’s cloudy today. Might rain later. I don’t mind the rain, really, I like the way it sounds on the ground. I might go to Riddle’s Bed before it starts, though. I like to go there and read the writing on the stones. It’s like the stones are there just to remember the people who’ve died even if no one else does. I try to remember as many names as I can, just to help the stones. Pieter Garman, that’s one. I don’t go there at night, though. I don’t like to think of all those people lying under the ground. I sometimes wonder if they wake up at night. We live above ground and sleep at night so if they’re below ground they might just sleep in the day, mightn’t they?

They might. I don’t like to risk it.

There’s a man by the Choke

March 7, 2013 § Leave a comment

There’s a man by the Choke with a turn-handle organ and he plays as the shadows walk by. There’s a monkey beside him with an old, rusty cup and she dances for the copper they throw.

Sometimes he wonders whether he turns the handle or the handle is now turning him but the song is near ending and the monkey’s stopped dancing so he puts the machine in reverse.

.esrever ni enihcam eht stup eh os gnicnad deppots s’yeknom eht dna gnidne raen si gnos eht tub mih gninrut won si eldnah eht ro eldnah eht snrut eh rehtehw srednow eh semitemoS

.worht yeht reppoc eht rof secnad ehs dna puc ytsur ,dlo na htiw mih ediseb yeknom a s’erehT .yb klaw swodahs eht sa syalp eh dna nagro eldnah-nrut a htiw ekohC eht yb nam a s’erehT

There’s a man by the Choke with a turn-handle organ and he plays as the shadows walk by. There’s a monkey beside him with an old, rusty cup and she dances for the copper they throw.

Sometimes he wonders whether he turns the handle or the handle is now turning him but the song is near ending and the monkey’s stopped dancing so he puts the machine in reverse.

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