/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.7374689]

ITT: Rewrite "Loss" in the style of your favourite author.

[Anonymous No.7374722]

is this a real comic from the series? i know penny arcade was about gayming but i never researched if this was real or just a meme

and if it's real. why. and what.

[Anonymous No.7374732]

Kurt Vonnegut:

"The building, which they called a 'hospital', had been constructed so that faulty, broken down humans could be repaired. It was filled with at least a dozen human repairmen, known as 'surgeons', as well as humans who were adept at seeing what damage had been done to other humans, known as 'doctors'.

Felix Hoobadasher swung open the door to this building where I was sat in the waiting room thinking about fannies. There was a human behind a counter, this human was a female, her job was to direct other humans around the hospital, and keep track of interactions that humans had with the hospital.

'I'm looking for my girlfriend!' Felix roared like a rusty lawnmower.

'Name?' The receptionist said without even looking up at Felix.

'Francine Goobler!' he said desperately.

Meanwhile in Ilium, New York, Kilgore Trout's pet snake was having a miscarriage.

[Anonymous No.7374748]

Hospital: Smell of carbolic and sterile paper gowns— A tangle of bones under a blanket, an old man, goes rigid with a jolt (off-panel), his back forming a Fibonacci arc— Jissom spurts everywhere, the old man gumming at the soapy air, rolls his horse eyes back...

"Jesus..." Tim Buckley, distressed, approaches a useless biological mistake—i.e., a woman—behind a desk.

(A 20-foot centipede you can't see with his antennae between her legs...)

"Where is my gf?" asks Buckley.

The bitch points.

Dr. Benway masks his glee but grows hard. He finally gets to break the news, and it fills his balls hot— Young boys need it special— "Sorry, son, but you're gonna be saying a lot of

>tfw no gf

Your gf dead."

Buckley casts an ancient Mayan spell to bring her back, but he half-asses it because she deserves to die and women are disgusting. 1920s music down a windy street...

[Anonymous No.7374760]

>>7374689
If that door was completely in frame it would say 'GENOCIDE'.

- Eli Wiesel

[Anonymous No.7374779]

The author was tall and blond and had a long yellow mustache that gave him an anachronistic appearance. He looked as if he would be more at home in another era.

This was the third or fourth book he had brought to i the library. Every time he brought in a new book he looked a little older, a little more tired. He looked quite young when he brought in his first book. I can’t remember the title of it, but it seems to me the book had something to do with America.

“What’s this one about?” I asked, because he looked as if he wanted me to ask him something.

“Just another book,” he said.

I guess I was wrong about him wanting me to ask him something.

[Anonymous No.7374801]

>>7374722
It's a comic called "Control Alt Delete" which was about video gamers on a couch until suddenly an arc with a miscarriage.

[Anonymous No.7374803]

Long afloat on distant oceans,
I did all my best to smile.
Till your singing eyes and fingers
drew me loving to your isle.

[Anonymous No.7374830]

>>7374722
Unfortunately it's very real. Also was a bit of a meme. Welcome to 4chan.

[Anonymous No.7375087]

For Sale: Baby Shoes–Never Memed

[Anonymous No.7375313]

>>7375087

[Anonymous No.7376961]

>>7374830
>a bit of a meme
>A BIT

[Anonymous No.7376999]

>>7374732
>>7374760
Top lel

[Anonymous No.7377016]

[Anonymous No.7377144]

>>7374732

Felix Hoobadasher's penis was 3 inches long and 7 inches wide.

[Anonymous No.7377159]

>>7377144
>7 inches wide.

[Anonymous No.7377186]

>>7374748
Top kek.

[Anonymous No.7377212]

>>7374748
>young boys need it special
My sides.
This should be copypasta just sayin.
And not to mention writing basically a found poem out of Burroughs quotes to respond to a post is Based Burroughs as fuck

[Anonymous No.7377245]

The flowers in the corner shoot their hooks at me,
As I lie on the bed like a Jew,
With your big black boots in the hall,
Like the train that will carry me off, off to Dachau, Auschwitz, Nagasaki
And light fills the room like a skin lamp shade as you step in side with you empty eyes and your fascist chin and your slicked hair,
Beware, beware, you cannot delete or control me,
There's no alternative when you've had your fun,
You have three frames, I have one
I spoke to God and now I'm done

[Anonymous No.7377272]

He leaned against the door frame, staring at the dust settling around the window and thought of the dry cold earth his father had toiled so hard to farm. He thought back over all the years of academic hope dashed by his silent enmity with Lomax, which for some, distant reason, could never be resolved. He smiled, thinking of his dead friends in the war, and then looked at Grace, lying on the bed and thought of her as a child, playing on the floor of his study. Suddenly it dawned on him with growing horror, that this was what Edith had planned all along.

[Anonymous No.7377281]

[Anonymous No.7377303]

>>7374803
What are you doing here, Tim? Go make more jazz folk

[Anonymous No.7377308]

>>7374689
But a pregnancy, that's either there, or it isn't. Binary, elegant. The job of surveying it can even be done by a nurse, who presently nudges you with a conspiratorial wink. "What is it that cries?" - "Los!"

[Anonymous No.7377313]

>>7374689
Genocide, light of my life, holy fire of my crusade. My sin, my soul. Gin-oh-side: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to slip, at three, on the teeth. Gin. Oh. Side. It was Gin, plain Gin, with my tonic, totaling four shots per in one glass. It was Oh in exclamation.It was Side of righteousness. It was the Holocaust to my enemies. But in my eyes she was always righteous Genocide. Did it have a reason? It did, indeed it did. In point of fact, there might have been no Genocide at all had I not loved, one summer, a newfound love for painting. In a princedom by the mountains. Oh when? About as many years before Genocide was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the tribunal, exhibit number one is what the Philistines, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged Philistines, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns upon his head!.”

[Anonymous No.7377337]

>>7374830
>bit of a meme
understatement of the month. any 2x2 grid became recognizable in context as a riff on Loss

[Anonymous No.7377353]

He rushed straight in, without a passing thought of what the smart or safe option was. The crew stood on the roof half-in awe, half-mortified at Buck's actions.

/I'm not too late,/ Buck told himself. /I can't be too late./

---

It had been a long day at the desk. Too long. Names and faces had become a blur 5 hours ago. Now, nearing the end of my shift, I saw him come in again. I checked my computer to confirm, and we both said in unison, "Tim Buckley." I pointed him down the hall and found myself wondering what was really going on behind that pale mask of B^U.

---

The doctor ushered him in with a subdued look on his face. /He's a doctor, Buck. Don't look too much into his expressions,/ I told myself. /It's all just a part of his bedside manner. I'll be there with her soon. We will go through this together./

Buck crept through the hospital door with the kind of anxiety that would have killed a lesser man. He saw there, on the white hospital bed, a shaking figure that he knew to be his wife. One look into her eyes told him everything.

He was too late.

[Anonymous No.7377372]

>>7374689
Plato:

Ethan: I got a call. Something about an emergency. Where's my wife?

Secretary: You'll get a chance to see her, but first you'll have to speak with the doctor. He's down the hall to your right.

Ethan: Doctor!

Socrates: Yes?

Ethan: I was told that there was an emergency. That I needed to come and fast. What's wrong? What's happening to my wife and child? Are they alright?

Socrates: Slow down, young man! Slow down! I'm sure that in your daily life, you and yours are full of wisdom, wisdom having left my parts for yours apparently. Yet I wonder how it is that I could answer your questions, if I do not myself even know WHAT a wife and child are!

Ethan: ...What?

Socrates: But you, since you seem to me to be one of those who are full of wisdom, perhaps you can share with me what you think "wife" and "child" are?

Ethan: ...I...I don't even know what you're saying...

Socrates: NEITHER DO I

[Anonymous No.7378567]

>>7377372
Fucking kek!!

[Anonymous No.7378571]

>>7377372
well done

[Anonymous No.7378610]

>>7377372
I have no sides

[Anonymous No.7378622]

I entered the hospital. It reminded me of the one where I fucked a cute nurse back in the war. Before they blew my balls of. The war was horrible.
The doctor sent me down the hallway. He would have made a fine boxer. Hadley lay in her room. She cried. I though about the shoes I bought for the child. I would need to sell them. At least they were never worn.
I didn't care about the kid. I wasn't the father anyway.

[Anonymous No.7378629]

>>7377372
Jesus fuck, what have you done to my sides?

[Anonymous No.7378630]

>>7377337
thank you

[Anonymous No.7378631]

>>7377372
kek

[Anonymous No.7378663]

>>7377281
much better

[Anonymous No.7378749]

>>7377281
should turn into a cockroach at the last panel

[Anonymous No.7378794]

>>7377372
kek

[Anonymous No.7378923]

>>7378567
>>7378571
>>7378610
>>7378629
>>7378631
>>7378794
jesus christ

[Anonymous No.7378981]

>>7374689

There's a bajillion of tales of miseries and woes
But I'll tell just this one so here's how it goes
A thin man by the name of Wilhelm Wumblerwobb
Had knocked-up a dame with the jizzwizzles from his knob
One sunny day in the town of Tingding-Dalabah
Thin Wilhelm Wumblerwobb found himself at the E.R.
Oh wondrous contraptions with snip-sniptions and snap-snaptions
But to halt the miscarriage would require some adaptions

[Anonymous No.7379098]

>>7374732
That's pretty good.

[Anonymous No.7379463]

The greatest story ever told

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehC4ZXw9wgc

[Anonymous No.7379715]

One morning, as Olivia McWhocares was waking up from anxious dreams, she discovered that in bed she had a monstruous abortion.

[Anonymous No.7379748]

>>7374689
After a while I went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain

[Anonymous No.7380047]

>>7377272
This is MemeCarthy, right?

[Anonymous No.7380067]

>>7380047
Nah, McCarthy doesn't explicitly state what his characters are thinking. It's all in their actions.
This >>7379748 would be a valid attempt if it weren't in first person.

[Anonymous No.7380133]

For sale: Baby shoes, never worn.

[Anonymous No.7380335]

Scene: Infirmary

[Enter MCMANUS]
MCMANUS: Open, doors! Mine shadow casteth 'pon thee!
Slide onward apart, strange automaton,
Make away for my vain, comic parade.
Hasten I must, for 'ridden mistress lies
Three panels hence, braced in pain'd annulment.
But hush, I speak too soon, for I know not.

[Enter clerk, silent pointing]

MCMANUS: Wherefore does she point, this cowering clerk?
How now? She aborted her flowing locks
Chopped like an Amazonian and yet
Queerly crouch-ed in eager reception.
Miss! Carry me 'tward thy fingered climax

[Exeunt clerk]

MCMANUS: I see two squares approaching where fate calls,
Onward I march.

[Enter physician]

MCMANUS: O good surgeon,
A saving sight! Thine 'rival consoleth me
Tell me, physician, what potions carry?
Can thou lead me onward to my lady?

PHYSICIAN: Woe, friend. Her beloved humor hath drained
The tiles stained but humorless and barely
One left for your fates to finally meet.
Your destiny was three and now 'tis two
Soon enough thine discovery awaits.

[Exeunt physician]

MCMANUS: Wherefore doth a saving man solemn speak
This frigid air compels me onward, ho!
Lilah! I hear thee ahead! What sad sounds!

[Enter LILAH, weeping]
MCMANUS: I dare not speak.

LILAH : Lover, my womb is bare
Our modest family twofold again.
And yet through gaudy tears I feel anew,
Audiences surrounding us, like angels
Choiring with laughter at our sad expense,
Perhap this sorrow is our comic moment
A cherub returning and filling hearts
Where sincerer humors could not fulfill
Mock'd are we, but mock'd we were destined
For our lives are framed in comic sequence.

MCMANUS: Vile words, these! Phantoms swirl o'er thee like flies
Buzzing circumstance, my ears ring with woe!
Lilah, I know not wherefore our buckling
God hath given and taken, but I vow
We shall persist and multiply, new forms,
New lives and shapes we will assume from now,
Our comedy is through, and 'haps ne'er was.

[Exeunt MCMANUS and LILAH]

[Anonymous No.7380657]

>>7380335
lyl

[Anonymous No.7380665]

>>7380047
Modern /lit/, everyone

[Anonymous No.7380902]

>>7374760
best one desu

[Anonymous No.7380982]

>>7380335
How is it that this one meme always elicits such incredible amounts of efforts?

[Anonymous No.7381084]

>>7380335
I enjoyed this quite a bit.

[Anonymous No.7381154]

>>7380335
>[Enter clerk, silent pointing]
Bill would never give such an explicit stage direction, but good job otherwise.

[Anonymous No.7381160]

>>7377372
This sucks

[Anonymous No.7381175]

A-and there goes Tim Buckley, charging in running back style hand reaching out in a stiff arm into the tobacco stained waiting room - say ace, dont'cha ever clean the place? - and right up to the plump fräulein receptionist, his cock resting right against her desk as he leans in to her with his words already falling off the tip of his tongue.
He is redirected by a hellish bureaucracy, some kind of sick satirical line of Pulmonologist, Nephrologists, Hepatologists, - what kind of sick (...) - and finally to a meek Obstetricians, who limply points with one wet finger into the room at the end of the hall. Hey, it had to be, this last dramatic walk, the end of the hall where else would THEY have put her? But say, what the fuck is this? Old Buckley thinks he's hallucinating but no, the kazoo orchestra has kicked now into full swing from behind the door, and the tenor range has begun laying the comically anapestic AABBA chorus.

There once was a man named Buckley
Who thought he'd a child so lovely
But his seed wasn't good
And his wife understood
The baby'd come out kind of lumpy!

[Anonymous No.7381178]

A-and there goes Tim Buckley, charging in running back style hand reaching out in a stiff arm into the tobacco stained waiting room - say ace, dont'cha ever clean the place? - and right up to the plump fräulein receptionist, his cock resting right against her desk as he leans in to her with his words already falling off the tip of his tongue.
He is redirected by a hellish bureaucracy, some kind of sick satirical line of Pulmonologist, Nephrologists, Hepatologists, and finally to a meek Obstetricians, who limply points with one wet finger into the room at the end of the hall. Hey, it had to be, this last dramatic walk, the end of the hall where else would THEY have put her? But say, what the fuck is this? Old Buckley thinks he's hallucinating but no, the kazoo orchestra has kicked now into full swing from behind the door, and the tenor range has begun laying the comically anapestic AABBA chorus.

There once was a man named Buckley
Who thought he'd a child so lovely
But his seed wasn't good
And his wife understood
The baby'd come out kind of lumpy!

[Anonymous No.7381201]

>>7381178
joyce?

[Anonymous No.7381203]

>>7374689

1, 2;
2, 2.5.

-- Ernest Hemingway

[Anonymous No.7381232]

>>7381203
Baby memes, never worn.

[Anonymous No.7381285]

I'm still a bit nervous in the car so I do a second bump of cocaine and this one goes down much easier than the first to the point where I start to wonder if Marco, my dealer, had maybe cut it to a far harsher degree than I was used to.
I entered the hospital emergency room. I was wearing a pair of fitted blue jeans, Levi's, a loose-fitting white and blue raglan tee shirt with short sleeves, Calvin Kline, and a pair of brown hiking boots, Timberland. I approached the counter with a speed that I hoped seemed natural, as it was accented by both worry (for myself, primarily, though for Lilah to a lesser degree) and the cocaine I had just taken, which I could feel affecting my perception in a particularly harsh way.
I thought again about possible cuts and admixtures that could have produced such a keen, razor-blade worldview, as though I, despite moving continuously, was isolated in a series of poses-- first, opening the Emergency Room Door, then, speaking with the bitch behind the waiting room counter (red hair, cropped short like a dyke, purple hospital scrubs, faux-gold watch, maybe an imitation Seiko). Suddenly, as if no time has passed, I perceive myself speaking with a doctor. My voice sounds robotic and distinctly un-lucid, drugged in a morphine or barbiturate-induced manner, but I can't tell if it's my perception or my actual voice, as the doctor is directing me towards Lilah without any signs of emotional distress coming from him. I ask him if the fetus has been disposed of-- might be nice to keep, a type of memento mori. I obviously don't mention my motivations, but he still becomes perceptively agitated, and I begin to feel insecure. I try to slip him ten dollars, but he shakes me off.
I'm over Lilah now. She's out of her usual outfit and wearing a pair of off-white hospital scrubs. Her hair is still done up behind her head in a red hairband, Gucci, which I gave her for her birthday. She is clutching her stomach and crying. I reach to hold her, but don't. Maybe I start to cry, I'm not sure. I try to ask her about the cocaine, and if her reaction to it two days ago was similar to mine now, but the words are like coal tar in my throat, and instead I wheeze out some platitude about loss. My memory blacks out. I am nothing, and in this nothingness I am omnipotent.


It's September, and I'm in Lucas's house.

[Anonymous No.7381292]

>>7381232
lol

[Anonymous No.7381372]

Susan was acting like a little bitch. She couldn't get over loosing the fetus, though it was only six months old and she had said she first found out that she wasn't ready for a kid. She was only keeping it because it would have been her third abortion. God forbid you have a third abortion. The ethical limit is two fetuses, no more. For my part, I was just happy there wouldn't be another cheque due every month.

"I don't really see the big deal here," I said. "It's not like it was an actual person."

"Not now. Please not now." Her voice cracked and she let out a sob. The fucking histrionics with this woman.

"Really though, it's just a bunch of cells."

"It had feet."

"So what it had feet? Chickens have feet. You don't care about the chickens, do you?"

"You could see its feet. It had toes."

"Yeah? You see what colour eyes it had, too? Did look more like a Michael or a Joey? You know I always said Michael was the better name. Joey, well, it's a nice name, but it sounds like child's. Can you imagine an adult Joey? No one would take him seriously."

"Please, stop."

"Though I suppose, ha, Joey's been spared adulthood, right? Lucky bastard never even had to go through the trouble of being born."

And so starts the whaling. The tremulous breathing and the pathetic whining verging too often on shreaking. If I'm honest it was starting to get to me. She was attracting all sorts of attention to us, nurses kept popping in just to "check up," and you could tell they knew something was suspicious. Rumors fly fast in hospitals, the staff need a solid dose of the latest gossip to make tolerable the stench of diseased piss and disinfectant. Well, let the pigs have their shit, I say. I was getting out of there. I didn't need Susan, and she only thought she needed me. In reality she needed nobody, she was beyond help. It wasn't her impoverished upbringing that made her trash, it was herself, her being that was flawed, fundamentally and irredeemably. Destitution was not her state but the essence of her character. And beyond all that, she sucked cock worse than a 16 year old -- in short, nothing was left worth sticking around for.

[cont. below]

[Anonymous No.7381379]

>>7381372
[cont. from above]

But I though I'd let her off easy. I didn't have anything to gain from being bitter, though god knows I was entitled to feeling a little cold.

"Look, Susan," I said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on with me right now. My wife's been -- well, you already know what the situation is there. It's trying, but I know that's not an excuse. You're the last person I should be frustrated with right now."

She stared past me, fixing her eyes on the floor. "It's okay," she said, softly, emotionless.

"Really, I'm sorry for saying all that. Don't think any of this is your fault. It couldn't have happened differently, and it's not like -- "

"The doctors," she cut me off, "the doctors said it was a common issue, something about the umbilical cord, it couldn't get nutrients through to the baby -- the fetus."

She started sobbing again.

"Yeah," I said, "doctors will say things like that. I wouldn't put too much stock in their diagnosis, though. They know the state you're in. They wouldn't expect you to be able to handle everything right now."

She looked up, her eyes naked and hesitant. She always had a beautiful vulnerability about her, as if she were too delicate for the brute facts of existence.

"It's just that," I continued, "well it's kind of obvious, isn't it? You've had two abortions. Sad to say but what exactly did you expect? You can't go slaughtering children in the womb and expect to come out of it the image of fertility."

"No. Fuck you. Get the fuck out."

"But you didn't seriously believe you could have had that child, did you? Surely at the clinic they told you about the risks? The risks of going barren? Those aren't pretty numbers, Susan. It's about time you acknowledged them. About time you put everything in perspective. By all means, keep going to school, keep after your career, but have a little perspective. You're barren, Susan. The abortions made you barren. You're not going to have a family, not now, not ever, so cut it the fuck out."

She buried her face in the pillow, her sobs getting louder, angrier, like a petulant child who can't get what she wants.

I knelt down beside the bed and stroked her hair. "I'm leaving you a twenty for cab fare. Don't contact me again."

And that's how I ended it. I ambled out the hospital doors into the fresh air and sunshine, one less problem on my mind.

[Anonymous No.7381393]

>>7379463
God dammit I think this is the hardest I've laughed on 4chan.

[Anonymous No.7381396]

>>7374760
oh fuck, best

[Anonymous No.7381416]

I walked, very quickly, into the hospital room. The room was cold and lined with linoleum and there was a woman at the desk. I asked her where my wife was, and she told me that she was down the hall.
I walked down the hall, which was also cold and jarring. I saw a man with a clipboard outside of my wife's room. I asked if she was okay. hegave no response, he simply waved me in. And there, on the bed, I saw her crying.

It is often in situations like this you know what to say, but you don't say them, and so you pretend that you do not know what to say. you simply outstretch your arms and pretend like you do not exist. I did as such. The room felt cold. I do not think that moments like this are especially meaningful, but they are especially poignant and there is no denying this.

After a little bit I left the room and walked back to my hotel in the rain.

[Anonymous No.7381433]

>>7381416
>very quickly
>adverbs
stay thirsty, my friend

[Anonymous No.7382052]

>>7374748

if you hadn't done it, i would have.

[Anonymous No.7382072]

>>7377308
>>7381178

[Anonymous No.7382384]

>>7375313
>dat file name
>डट फैल नैम

[Anonymous No.7382441]

>>7381285
Kek.

[Anonymous No.7382942]

>>7374689
Tim Buckley must have been a victim of poor writing, for one morning, without any warning, he was summoned to the hospital to participate in the escalation of an asinine story arc.

Buckley burst into the imposing and decrepit hospital building in an unfamiliar neighborhood, filled with identical, dilapidated buildings inhabited by the unwashed masses, Doritos staining their fingertips and Mtn Dew Code Blue caked in their beards. It had taken Buckley an entire afternoon to find the hospital, and he resorted to calling himself Gregor Samsa to ask for directions, for seemingly no reason.

The receptionist was not helpful, and Buckley found himself growing more and more cross as he was endlessly directed and redirected through a labyrinth of corridors and reception desks, passing each one only to discover another reception desk just beyond in the darkness.

Buckley finally met another fellow with dark hair and a sallow face, who looked haggard and undernourished.

"I'm the doctor," the man said, "But I have been waiting to be called." He showed Buckley a dusty pager. "I've been waiting for five years. Your hot girlfriend but not quite since you've alienated her with your condition of anomie is in room 372.

Buckley found himself in a waiting room, where many visitors were waiting forever to be seen by a doctor or a nurse. Rashly, he refused to conform and pushed into the wing, finally reaching the room.

When he opened the door, he realized that he…Tim Buckley, had turned into a BUG!!

[Anonymous No.7383002]

[Anonymous No.7383032]

>>7378622
>"fucked"
>"balls"
>explicitly stating war as horrible
>lame reference to the six word story he probably didn't even write
>hemingway not caring about the kid
>hemingway not being the father

oh my. read some Hemingway and try again.

[Anonymous No.7383037]

>>7381416
>all those commas
>that major cringe in the second paragraph

[Anonymous No.7383072]

>>7374689
They have a saying about life - it ends.

The hospital was blurry. I hadn't slept for a month.

"Your wife is in the ward over there." says the nurse, pointing at me. I realise I'm staring at her, or maybe Tyler is. This wasn't in the job description.

From the minute you're born you're fighting to survive.

"We don't think she's going to make it." the doctor tells me. "Does she have any immediate family?"

Poor Marla. Not a soul to call.

Then the scene cuts and I'm standing looking at her on the bed. I don't know how I got there. She lies motionless like one of those seagulls choked to death on oil, feathers covered in black sticky crude. Thanks a lot BP.

[Anonymous No.7383075]

I had entered the hospital, in the way that one might during some torrid seizure of guilt such as is experienced during fleeting moments of fear, and under the cape of the tense emotion of blossoming grief beginning to take form in one's mind when one discovers that at some point in the past, great injury, whether of permanent damage or of mere temporary ailment, had been afflicted upon one's closest and most loving friend, and there, upon entering this place, in which I had never been before, I was struck with such impact by this feeling of inescapable dread that it was as if, in that moment, I was transported far into the past, back to my childhood in Combray, and I once again felt the great wave of sadness that would always accompany that moment when my mother, in her evening dress, would leave my room, after having kissed me tenderly on the cheek and bade my good-night, and return to whatever cheerful party or merry occasion was taking place below, leaving me alone.

[Anonymous No.7383083]

>>7383002
kek

[Anonymous No.7383147]

Bukley he come round to her hospital at the nurse and she say, Lilah be down at her hospital crib cry say her baby aint come out right, and I go on with Bukley to the doctor where she be at and he say, Lilah be lie deep far back in a room in hospital crib, and she be cry. Bukley gone lift Lilah out the bed and me with him crying and I be rub on the wet all over Lilah face and Bukley be so careful when he take off all her shirts she got on, tell Lilah to let me see. Lilah cooch all beat up and cut up. Big stripes of cut all up and down Lilah cooch, pink stripes and around the stripes the skin like the skin on folks lips be like. Slick down in my insides to look at it. Lilah be cry. Bukley say Lilah say her baby aint come out right.

[Anonymous No.7383176]

>>7383075
nice try, (ol), lacking semicolons though

[Anonymous No.7383185]

>>7383147

[Anonymous No.7383212]

>>7383147

-yrstruly?

[Anonymous No.7383426]

>>7381285
Yeah, that´s BEE to a tee.

[Anonymous No.7383475]

>>7383212
Wardine momma beat her with a hanger btw

[Anonymous No.7383486]

>>7383147
10/10

[Anonymous No.7383513]

>>7377313
Top kek

[Anonymous No.7383538]

>>7378981
lol

[Anonymous No.7383554]

>>7382942
Too emphatic for Kafka

[Anonymous No.7383635]

Buckley was struck by the light in the hospital. For him, light was the soft glow of a Renoir; the lamp which he always left burning while he penetrated his wife.
Buckely would always watch himself in a mirror whilst making love. He was fascinated by the contours of his balls. The deep wrinkles were a relief map of an old man's forehead, expressing sagacity and serenity even as they shone in the sweat of his passion.
The light of this hospital was vivid and pure as fascism; a stark and brutal delineation of life and death, even as his unborn child straddled this boundary five rooms down.
He squinted at the red-headed woman behind the desk. Her breasts drooped in the defeat of middle age. What would it be like to make love to her? Perhaps in another life, they would have been great lovers, and raised many cattle in the country.
All of our great loves are eventually light or weightless; they are like the infant's first breath, borne away on the chlorine air of the hospital waiting room.

[Anonymous No.7384058]

>>7374722
fucking lurk more you newfag

[Anonymous No.7384099]

>>7383002
Mega kek!

[Anonymous No.7384104]

>>7383147
10/10

[Anonymous No.7384433]

>>7383002
ayyy