A collective of English Gentlemen
| Life in the Lost Lane A collective of English Gentlemen |
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In a still and metallic room A corroded ball slides down a slimy filthy yarn The air is heavy damp With age, salt and rust Black fluid pools amongst the cracked and fettered tiles gangrene mould wells up the light bleeds into the room from above The rusty ball wrestles past a knot of gristle on the wet yarn Gravity pulls it closer it falls Gravity kisses the ball and it stops dead on the grimy floor A drip of nothing slams into the ceiling the ball lies inert on the floor not observed, not heard, not significant Another year passes Another knot undone posted by E! @ 1:29 PM
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Hello and welcome from Life in the Lost Lane. L3 as it has become known is a fairly dynamic collection of reflections and meditations from a wide selection of authors. L3 attempts to bring the pain, pleasure and perversion of our individual world (s) to millions. Contributors are carefully vetted for writing style, insight and the ability to spin a rich tale. More than that, it is the drive and focus of the writers, who all push to define their ‘digital-selves’ that makes them and you welcome here. If you dislike/like/react/detest what you read here, or even fancy writing yourself, why not let us know. Clicking the author’s name will get you the email address you need to enter Life in the Lost Lane. |
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