Preparing the first heroines of hyperstition piece - on Mme Centauri - and came across this by Zora Neale Hurston (Centauri's 'mentor' in NY).
A taster:
As she approached Blue Sink she all but turned back. It was a dark night but the lake shimmered and glowed like phosphorous near the shore. It seemed that figures moved about on the quiet surface. She remembered that folks said Blue Sink the bottomless was Morgan's graveyard. All Africa awoke in her blood.
A cold prickly feeling stole over her and stood her hair on end. Her feet grew heavy and her tongue dry and stiff.
In the swamp at the head of the lake, she saw Jack-O-Lanterns darting here and there and three hundred years of America passed like the mist of morning. Africa reached out its dark hand and claimed its own. Drums, tom,tom,tom,tom,tom,beat in her ears. Strange demons seized her. Witch doctors danced before her, laid hands upon her alternately freezing and burning her flesh. She cried out in formless terror more than once before she found herself within the house of Morgan.
it was crap. Lets see some pictures off people dying, not drawings, real life pictures. i need them for school. thank you for your time you bastards
Posted by: tom at November 5, 2004 09:44 AMYEAH TOM, THE SHIT WASN'T REAL. YOU WANT PICTURES? DRAW THEM YOU BASTARD.
Posted by: kate at February 18, 2005 05:20 PM