Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Grip (Start of the story)

The Grip

Big Bro’s eye stung as he blinks and shields magnified light shooting through the eighty eight Durango’s front windshield. Blood from his eyelids projected harshly on his pupils. The sun radiates his vascular fore arms causing them to excrete tiny beads that grow and fall following veins to a plastic armrest.

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