(You Won’t Believe) …What the _______ heard while he was backside, cupped by the exotic palm of a satellite dish. His wrists and ankles were tied. His tongue was cut out. The new lice, mutations spliced with circuit and dazzle, made their entrance. The blinking clown nose on the radio tower made it plain: ON AIR. Chatter from dark southwest corners and angles passed through one another. Local chatter was provided by the local psychopath, the one who tied the other’s ankles and wrists. It was a formula and it worked. Some were afraid. All were transported.
An extreme vacation. A jaunt into the hollow and the haunt. The New Lice whispered the strict and absurd instructions, in a connubial language between their chatter and the psychopath’s, none of which could be obeyed while one’s hands and ankles were tied. New Lice made their entrance through the pores of constellations. More clown noses blinked. The noses were the only color, during a night that struggled to remain pitch-black.
• Unearth Noise: http://www.unearthnoise.com
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