dead squirrel just a bag of bones
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
Toronto, 2003.08.26
I passed The Squirrel again. Definitely just a (skin) bag of bones, now. Summertime, when the living is easy (for flies).
twenty-seven years and one million words
I passed The Squirrel again. Definitely just a (skin) bag of bones, now. Summertime, when the living is easy (for flies).
I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein's brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops.
—Steven J. Gould