Page 27
By Jack Joseph Smith
only two bones were jagged
alot, so that he desired A
bucket or even a small cup to
place under the dripping;
that went on, but to his
satisfaction, very slowly,
Skipping time the hours could
not have amounted to A clot
the size of an anthill. And his
will, the Living thing that
actually ticked to his sanity
to live on through it faced
him as his face knew
the meaning of their teeth
from the smashing.
(When would dust come?)
(When would dust come?)
It came, and he went into
his cave careful not to turn
his back, and making sure the
dripping fell on places he could
later manage to clean without
hauling to much water.
But once in the shack he