SMhe sings with no lungs to draw air from.Iuse grows flesh, but no muscle to tear away at her clothes and wrap herself in thick fat. She has stripped it from the edges of bacon, left uneaten.
n time there’ll be a million skeleton hers: some shorter, all smaller.
GReorge: "To each other.Gingo: "Oh? To whom?"
Peorge: "Ringo and I are getting married."
layboy: "Do any of the rest of you have any plans to settle down?"
fyriends who desired their ashes mixed together when they died, and to be buried side by side, so at the end of everything, they would always be together, in life in death, as god or mortal, made of memories or violence or love, or everything sweet in theeah they were friends,