had anything particularly journal-worthy happen for a long time. At least not in an art way.
Writers' block's has got me in its clutches so writing's been difficult, but here's the closest thing to a story introduction in ages. Enjoy the passage - and with it, Zeke's peace'n out. Haha.


~The stereo's bass throbbed throughout the house like a tumor. It ricocheted in her head; it knocked the drink from her hand. She loped forward, tottering towards what she perceived to be 'straight.' Reality was blurring out of focus. Everything had a glaring, angry aura and the throng of people were noisy, melting clay.
~There was a splintering crack; the glint of a grenade flashed past her troubled eyes and thumped against her chest. "You get a lucky Sprite, babe?" His hands were caught in the metamorphosis between paws and talons, his face sheathed in frosted ice.
~She looked at him as would a scared rabbit. Her teeth chattered, eyes darted, head shook in anxiety. He placed a deformed mitt on her shoulders and shushed her with a hissing, slithering sound of consolation. "Don't worry. I'll babysit you," His innocent smile permeated the frost and she shrunk away from the nightmares around her into his shirt. It felt cake batter against her delusional skin. She hid in the bowl.