Friday, February 10, 2012

There will be blood by Mark Z. Danielewski



Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or 
without thought, but carefully: a premeditated
murder of minutes. The violence comes from a
combination of giving up, not caring and a
resignation that getting past it is all you can
hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour.

You don't work, you do not read, you do not
daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need
to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no
evidence: no weapon, no blood and no body. The only
clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a
terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth
indicating something has been suffered, that in the
privacy of your life you have lost something and. . . 
. . . . . . the lost is too empty to share.

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