Good afternoon, world.
I've been playing around with this paragraph for a couple of days now, and I think it's right where it needs to be. To paraphrase James St. James, if you could publish a paragraph I really think this one would be a ringer. Not exactly sure what our Fearless Narrator is doing here, or what happens between him and this as-yet unnamed gorgeous stranger. I'd love to keep writing about her, but she just isn't talking today.
In any case, dig it.
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"He rolls over and stares into the eyes of his present damnation. He met this tattooed siren shortly after she fell out of the sky, a visitor from some far-off planet where things are harder to understand and much more beautiful. Next to her, he had experienced nothing. She was an emerald pariah, she was every single thing nobody had told him was out there."
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Until next time, world...enjoy.
I Have Milk, But No Cereal is a blog meant to capture the hilarious, tragic, gritty gist of my life as an up-and-coming member of adult society. I won't be pulling any punches, so hopefully anyone reading this will have a good, solid grasp of what it's like to be a disaffected young man entering the real end of a world in disrepair. Enjoy.
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