November 10, 2009

SPAM, THE NOVEL (Chapter 3)

(Another piece of the puzzle from Nyce's inbox is revealed. Not.)

The daughter of the great whore of whores.

Nov. 11, 1:39 a.m.

How are you, Rafael!

He hated Gall. That is all I want now. Zane hefted the scythe. He galloped down a side alley. This is our first big attack. This would be nothing. Every woman should learn a trade. Women should attend less to household duties.
The blanket was lifted from me. That is what I told her. But what if we should have it? Then we will blow it together. It was man. Now and forever now. Her father shook his head sadly. STILL AMONG SHOALS. It didn't seem to. In my right the fascist papers.
If that woman could only write. Daughter of the great whore of whores. The best you've ever served under. Smith and Mr. The rest of the creature ran on. They'll be glad to share their rooms. The bridge is nothing to me. Tonight we discuss all. He had not taken any before. In a moment he had it figured. Here it comes.
Am I not right? Would he sit down? He continued forward. We've had enough of this. Joy lit up his eyes. Where was there safe passage? What signs are there of a hound? We are through the crust. Pilar did not turn. This sounded very good. Pointing at nothing.