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picture stories the gathering comp  

If it was a dance of death, she could have got blessed by the own all but she chose the common way. The call to come was a piercing yell. The gathering, the shattering of the peace and the police shut their eyes, they where out of this day thanks be to the one and only Mr. G. If you’re shuttering slightly muttering, shy and with discontents, but your not giving voice to it, is that a choice?
It was the counting of the names, the Gathering. All the gates where closed no accidents allowed. It was not a pleasant tense but neither was it relaxing. She said, ‘You might find me better, if your hand was held with mine.’ And everyone was believing, for if they didn’t it would splinter to nothing at all. An imperative that demanded to be fulfilled, a roll of drums that only would be stilled by their presence.

L: Its a game of stance, some would say a circle too. A romance of a kind, I’m heading West with all the rest of them. Its a bitter road, compilation of a new beginning. We do that here, every year we slough of the old and start again but before we do the counting crew take their aim at us. They want no more than before see and if we’ve doubled up ourselves, there’s hell to pay, ruins all their papers, start again with a fresh pen or something. Anyway as they say here its begun now, won’t be no rest till its over. The counting men disrobe us, then we can see what are to each other. Discover early lovers, know the new from the old flames and in the heated place we melt away our skins; time to burn off the old see. Then we do a twirl and grow another, each to his own, a water buffalo good for cheese I do think, a manic monday murderer, a seer, a cat and me I think I’ll be, well what will I be? Reach out and touch me, let me know the answer. Bigger tits, smaller arms, what do you want from me? An orang-utan might be pleasing, you like the fur I know. Seeing me is it better for you? I stay, still something nearly as I was, don’t wanna freak you with too much shifting do I?
Its a better thing for us, skin deep beauty is a fading thing. This way you get to play with a new me every year. No matter how I might appear I’m yours, body soul and all. Frightened you didn’t I? You can’t cope with that sort of commitment can you? No don’t disagree its true. Scare the shit out of your arse don’t it? Oh happy me, now the bets are laid, its a game we play wagering who will become as who. Little Johnny’s got his pants down now, he’s become a secret policeman, with all the balls that implies. Rita’s got her vest on tight, fly away my darling, bright as blue and more so. Freddy Andenedy foxed us all, he’s coming as himself, which is a daring proposition as he’s a hundred. you’d think he’d take the care to battle charge the time a bit. Oh well so it is and all the monsters turn to men. All the freaks lay against each other and pull and push their business end, getting off their suits to scrub and bathe, then turn around and become the frown that I wear when you are late. Its a busy time for all.
But no despair what ere we wear outside, its still the same old us. Princess turned to poison, she’s the same. Idle youth becomes a true believer but he wont stop chewing gum. As for me I hope you see I’ve done it just for you, my names the same but these jugs are new, someplace for you to rest your head. So now adieu I’ve a fitting for my gown, its made of mirrors, so you can see the you in me, as is appropriate I think.