A little late, but here it is anyways. And as a side note, I’m sure many of you have noticed that productivity has dropped on this blog. Oddly enough, if you were to make a graph that showed when I started writing a book and posts on this blog, you would see some correlation. Maybe a post about that this Thursday! Until then, enjoy the paragraph.
John turned from the city and stared at the black, scratched chalkboard near the sushi bar, trying to decipher the neon writing; it was nothing more than pictographs. He leaned towards it, rubbing his head, watching the phantom images leap off the board, play with his eyes, turn him into one of its possessed victims.
“The special is orange chicken,” Jacques said.