  | 
         
         
          | 
            
	
Menu
             
              
	        
            ..:: CONTENTS
            ::.. 
			
             
               Volume VIII, Issue II 
             
            ..:: POETRY ::..
 
             ..:: PROSE ::..
            ..:: ETC
            ::.. 
               Contributor's Notes 
             
            ..:: ARCHIVES ::.. 
               Volume I, Issue I 
               Volume I, Issue II 
               Volume II, Issue I 
               Volume II, Issue II 
               Volume III, Issue I 
               Volume III, Issue II 
               Volume IV, Issue I 
            
               
            Volume IV, Issue II 
               Volume V, Issue I 
            
               Volume V, Issue II 
            
               Volume VI, Issue I 
	                   Volume VI, Issue II 
	                   Volume VII, Issue I 
				                   Volume VII, Issue II 
							                   Volume VIII, Issue I 
             
           | 
         
       
     | 
      | 
    
      
         
            | 
         
         
           
            
               
                |  
                   
                  
                   
                                    Blame Fault Mountain 
                  Spencer Selby
                   
                  
                  
  
                  Ultimately include the worsened folks to pause at bedrock  
chamber. Manic by dawn will hit sharp caring walls, lock their  
evil alone and teach boys to fill mouth with boulders and a full  
employment display. Behind each slab that premature move  
freakish in withered night grip spreads freely until some clown  
begins signaling bodies in attendance that with or without pain  
there will come time to perish during great narrative  
phenomena. Often victims separate from conditions so odd that  
a picnic on the Richter scale seems commonplace. Imagine  
yourself captured in oil and clay, whose dream is simply an  
episode of somnambulistic parents. Imagine now swoon  
obscurity outrage and voila! you have written the best curse  
available for travel to the stars. 
                    
                    
                   
                  //  
                  Advance   //
                  | 
               
             
           | 
         
       
     |