Sunday, September 1, 2013

natasha nakamura's diary


A motorcycle the size of a small horse rumbles by. It seems to be clearing its throat. The rider, sitting bolt upright the better to inspect the scenery, wants to give everyone a chance to listen to his wonderful machine. He wears an immaculate black t-shirt and lettered in white in an insistent script across his back: 

No comments:

Post a Comment