We are the Dead of Night; We're in the Zombie Room.

[Black_Bird]

I like getting together with my friends, driving out to the middle of no where and soaking up the night, all night, with my friends. It seems that my soul soars in the past-midnight hours.

Something is so sinister about the night. There's something that whispers dirty secrets that smell like hard liquor, that's warm and cold like a bon-fire in a forbidden feild. And your friends howl and babble incoherently in the wind, dancing like a tribe raising the dead.

And the bars. Where else would a drunken wolf stalk? Wandering eyes and licking lips; your own or hers? Something very primal about sitting back with your tribe mates, feeling shady in the corner as you watch her ass sway past your table.

Does midnight bring out the beast in you? Are you running with us tonight?

 

[Dhalgren]

This nocturnal creature needs to remember to bring her sunglasses...just as the sun will always remember when it's time to ray its light along her shoulders.


It’s a killer..