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<center><img src=”http://images.quizilla.com/C/canucke42/1045270748_kner960930.bmp”><br/>you are The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner.  comfusing, complicated, but interesting after you’ve been deciphered.<br/>Take this <a target=”quizilla” style=”color:rgb(0,0,0)” href=”http://quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=17&url=http://www.quizilla.com/users/canucke42/quizzes/What+Famous+literary+Work+Are+You%3F”>quiz</a&gt;!<br/>

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Every night right before I go to sleep I hear an auto going put-put-put all around the neighbourhood. The first day I noticed it, I sat up to look out of the window and I saw an auto puttering out of my alley with a blue light spilling out from within. Who knows what it is and why it roams the streets at night. Some regegade autowallah sick of going back and forth back and forth all day long, put-put-putters through the alleys and bylanes of the city.

I cant tell if my lenses are off or on. Oh God. I might die.

Pyak pyak

Pyak pyak

Haanshgulo cholechhe

Bodhoy ora

Chaan korte choleche?

Swati, Ragini and I.

Something I apparently wrote on the twentyninth of September, twothousandsix.

interminable evening. i watched the simpsons on tv all afternoon and had a bowl of maggi. once, around three, my knees froze and my spine straightned because i thought they were talking about me. head in my hands, hands on my knees, knees in the dust, dust in the wind.

caught, like forever, between paradoxes. curl up into a ball and unravel into bart simpson. nyeh hneh hneh.

There are several reasons why a bloody awful day faded before a wonderful evening, the weather not the least among these. It is raining in sporadic bursts, the breeze in the interim is cool, more heard than felt. It wafts in through the window to my right, seconds after I hear the wide fronds of palm trees rustle. Once in a while, at intervals that would be well regulated if I only noticed, a train goes by.

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