Big Sweaty Lesbian Toilet Roll

by Chivalry Augustus Sun 07 Apr 2019, 19:08

Hello, guys.

Did you know that, when Noah was building his ark to save himself, and some other bitches, from the great wide flood, there was a moment just before the flood had consumed all where one single piece of land was yet visible. He stood on that piece of land, and was consumed by the utter profundity of all creation as he dallied there, staring up at his big ark, where his family were looking at him sideways, and suggesting to him that he really ought, if he had any sense, to get back on their big bastard ark before everything went to hell. He was looking up and down and all around, and within him there existed a moment of absolute peace. There was a vast grey sky churning away, lost in a brief respite from the deluges that it had been visiting upon the world day-after-day. Bodies floated by, great bloating heaps ebbing back and forth, a vile flotsam that Noah did not give even the slightest hint of a damn about.

He was lost in the wonder of knowing that this was the last time, for a long while, that he would experience true solitude. He was caught up in the delight of knowing that God had charged him with the noble and incestuous duty of re-populating the earth with little humans. He was caught up in all of the long questions of the universe, all of the great unsolvable mysteries from the stars in the sky, to the impossible, biscuit-in-tea fragility of England's top order. He took a deep breath of sea air, which was full of death, and found that he was utterly without feeling. This one last outcrop of land on which he stood was beginning to slip away into the water, like a beach slowly being consumed by high tide. Water lapped at his toes, and he reached down one last time to feel the ground beneath his feet. When he rose, he found in his hand a tangle of blonde hair, silky soft and completely dry, as if it existed free of the sodden reality that he presently occupied. It made no sense to him, but nothing made sense anymore.

Having called to his family to let him back up, and having climbed the rope that they cast down to him, he drew them into a tight embrace around himself as he looked back over the great expanse of water. In every direction, there was but open ocean, temporarily becalmed, but still active enough that it made the ark rock back and forth like some overgrown cradle. A vertiginous dread filled him, but when he looked at his wife and children, he knew that he had to be strong. For he was the messenger, and while his existence made no sense to the ordinary man, he had duties in this life, and in the afterlife. Between his fingers, he felt that long lock of blonde hair, still dry, still promising much. It made no sense to him, but God had told him that his existence would never make any sense, that there would be a whole world opposed, in fact, to his very existence. He did not question the word of God, for he was nothing, not even a prophet. He was but an ordinary man, kissed by the messiah.