My
novel-in-progress Zyx; Or, Bring Me the Brain of Victor Theremin
is roaring along as I grab time to work on it as I run the gauntlet
of my life. Since I don't always write linearly, I often go back,
rewrite, rearrange, so I ended up adding something to the original
opening section that I posted last year (I'm leaving it up for you
cultural historians out there). This new opening gives more of a clue
to the craziness to come:
Victor
Theremin woke up in the middle of the night needing to piss.
It
pulled him out of another dream where Death came to him as a candy
skull-faced Catrina.
She
had glowing, ectoplasmic breasts on her naked rib-cage, nipples
dripping black milk that smelled like fresh-cut peyote. What could
lurk between her legs?
©
Ernest Hogan 2019
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