Copy and paste. Refragment everything into one piece. Piecing together single words from other stories and stripping them of meaning. Taking pieces of the puzzle and warping them so they can never fit together. That's what this is about, more or less. Cobblestone roads that lead nowhere. Screw the photo ID folks. I knew it wasn't easy. I knew it wasn't, running and shooting at snipers and dodging your mines at the same time is a tiresome task, unless you see someone doing it on a plasma screen. She was prepared for everything. She was ready for everything. She had a Nick Cave t-shirt in her backpack. She chewed the same gum she had chewed since she was a little girl. No one knew her laugh, but her smile could be seen from one of the floors of the Eiffel Tower. She blinked so fast that she never seemed to do it. Things seemed to take the shape of vines around her. She walked and danced and twirled and twirled and twirled. A snail in the quicksand stole her things. One afternoon stole her things and took her away.
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I.C.U
General Fiction"Debbie Harry and Kurt Cobain; Luca Prodan; a city that burns; a freckled girl who leaves; a war on a mysterious island and a cursed writer are the flashes that run through the mind of a teenager who suffered a motorcycle accident."
