Surely anyone who's worked in an academic library has considered methods for disabling the safety mechanisms of the rolling stacks.
Whimsically at first, while plotting byzantine assassinations with a colleague just returned from a budget meeting, then with gremlinic fascination while idling at an unapproached reference desk, then to sate an idle thanatic longing hours past sunset in a winter evening shift.
The woods of I'Cath amplify the regrets of ex-swains with bittersweet shadow-shapes & damp romantic vistas until they're so wracked with ruing their inability to shelter their dear beleaguered Spite that they disassemble into fixtures & furniture with no further intervention.
absurd textual gore
What greater aspiration could we have but to delight our three evil daughters with a sanguinary citadel of beaux's bones.
I've found positions that ease the pain. The standing ones require my left hand be kept at my nape, though, limiting the attitudes I can convey to those triangulated by cockiness, frustration, & endearing chagrin. Good thing I can get by on those for ages.
Scarp scree clatter. Register swerves, confusions of scale.
Within 30 miles of Philadelphia, because of a curse.
Une instance se voulant accueillante pour les personnes queers, féministes et anarchistes ainsi que pour leurs sympathisant·e·s. Nous sommes principalement francophones, mais vous êtes les bienvenu·e·s quelle que soit votre langue.
A welcoming instance for queer, feminist and anarchist people as well as their sympathizers. We are mainly French-speaking people, but you are welcome whatever your language might be.