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The Dime
I want to eat every story ever. All I am, all I do, all that motivates me to be more than a silent stone sinking in the water, is my hunger for stories.

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To eat, truly? To me, you seem to crave a witch to curse you to have stories fall from your lips like a fairytale princess cursed to spew roses or gems.

On a more prosaic note--you might enjoy reading my writing journal at penthius. Story fragments falling like leaves.

I cannot sustain myself... my desire to eat the stories far outweighs what I can produce. I am a glutton, a plague of locusts, entropic consumption of it all; books, words, songs, games, poems, memories, dreams, thoughts, photographs, paintings. I need it all.

Missed you last weekend. I will have to send yer gift in the mail instead of giving it in person....

I hope your time in the cities was powerful good. I would have liked to see you, but perhaps next time, yes? Did you need an address?

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