Doorgrave to the Bittersea Mark Howard Jones
“; his so-called life, the shell he inhabited that now passed for a life.”
Razor sharp, scrying lens, the woman he once loved buried and now seen askew migraine, poetic prose transcendence…
I can only retweet my tweet from earlier this morning, tweeted before reading this story; it felt almost as if all the story’s elements had already inspired me before my actually reading it! And its gestalt was already a ready-made.
“As a child, the sand had always infuriated and delighted him as it slid away under his soft shoes, his small feet. A million, million tiny creatures crushed to pieces and thrown upon the shore for his childish delight.”
My previous review of this author: https://dflewisreviews.wordpress.com/2014/01/02/delicate-toxins/#comment-1550
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