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Poor Imp

About Poor Imp

Life--became stop-start fragments; survival, still--too staggering ; stopped. Heart beat moments and no memory. Barefeet on pavement without the breath to know it's evening.


Being. Tolkien. Languages. Still Autumns; dashing derring-do Springs into Summer. Impishness. Fencing. Chess. Narrative. Lyrics. Football--er, not the sort with the oblong ball.


Tutor and Editor

"Now I realize that there is no righteous path, it’s just people trying to do their best in a world where it is far too easy to do your worst."
— Castiel