Rodolfo

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The tincture of ink in a sheep's eye.


The writings of Rodolfo

The Sky is Fearful

April 2, 2007 - 3:00 pm

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“Nothing’s there,” said Booger, “you might as well give up looking.” I made splash sounds with the small bones of my wrist. A map sat in my lap. It had led us here, out into the water where X certainly did not mark the spot. Maybe there was something worthwhile at [...]