Do Not Read This
Monday, February 11th, 2008Somewhere in the desert
Xack Symnz walked into a bar.
He was a unique visitor—always getting chocolate stains on his pants.
He looked at the barkeep with a tranquil blue eye, only one:
“Jugo de Piña.” The setting sun dealt hands of gold.
Symnz swiveled, swarthy, to a stool. There was a glint of [...]

