Miss R is something like the Lady of Comfort and Tears, only up the nefarious a few jots and remove the evil. There are caged things that she feeds most tenderly in her Brooklyn apartment, like imperious felines and a collection of hungry literature.
The weekend started with the exploitation of several parks. We demanded grassy submission and received back late 90's rock and a Reconstructionist Bat Mitzvah. Ah well. Close enough.
Later we chose gellato over Henry Darger and I though the trade a fair one for a summer's day.
Back home in the Batcave I wear NY sequins in a tawdry ruff. It's dirty, cheese-smelling and occasionally frighting but I've high hopes for its potency as a talisman. I fear succubi and wendigos during the cold DC nights.
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