Humidity strangles her whilst she struts with a corduroy pleated skirt which she has been solemnly wearing for the last six years. Still suits her, gluteal muscles were still the same. Lipsticks and guns on each side of her rubber sneaks: its black felt decorated with her pussy cat's strings of fur. She missed the outside world. Strangers examine her from legs to eyes and she is fascinated. Her nails of pallor are devoid of colour and her asymmetrical tresses makes her look swell. Happiness is up and ahead. She can smell it like a chemical burn underneath her sweaty palm.
Sophistication rattles.
She eyes him in a distant but he can already feel her eyes piercing through his. Inside, he is dancing. Her loveliness clouds his mind and instead of brushing his lips against her silken cheek, he holds her right hand. Her beaded ring was too enormous for her candle-shaped fingers but he can only feel her radiating pulse connecting right through his veins. It was like an electric clash but the feeling was not brand new. It's like an out-of-body experience every time he sees her: ravishing, all worthy of his glances, and even worthy of everyone's stares.
Sublimation commences.
Author
Eяin Heяoin
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Gravitational Pull
Humidity strangles her whilst she struts with a corduroy pleated skirt which she has been solemnly wearing for the last six years. Still suits her, gluteal muscles were still the same. Lipsticks and guns on each side of her rubber sneaks: its black felt decorated with her pussy cat's strings of fur. She missed the outside world. Strangers examine her from legs to eyes and she is fascinated. Her nails of pallor are devoid of colour and her asymmetrical tresses makes her look swell. Happiness is up and ahead. She can smell it like a chemical burn underneath her sweaty palm.
Sophistication rattles.
She eyes him in a distant but he can already feel her eyes piercing through his. Inside, he is dancing. Her loveliness clouds his mind and instead of brushing his lips against her silken cheek, he holds her right hand. Her beaded ring was too enormous for her candle-shaped fingers but he can only feel her radiating pulse connecting right through his veins. It was like an electric clash but the feeling was not brand new. It's like an out-of-body experience every time he sees her: ravishing, all worthy of his glances, and even worthy of everyone's stares.
Sublimation commences.
Sophistication rattles.
She eyes him in a distant but he can already feel her eyes piercing through his. Inside, he is dancing. Her loveliness clouds his mind and instead of brushing his lips against her silken cheek, he holds her right hand. Her beaded ring was too enormous for her candle-shaped fingers but he can only feel her radiating pulse connecting right through his veins. It was like an electric clash but the feeling was not brand new. It's like an out-of-body experience every time he sees her: ravishing, all worthy of his glances, and even worthy of everyone's stares.
Sublimation commences.
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Born in the mid-80s, Erin Herøin is a marveller of non-sequitur writing, cinematic films, & analogue photography.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
