/lit/ - Literature

>>7313115
My view of autumn came from the number 15 bus, which sat at the central station waiting for permission to move. It was the gray, rainy day of redemption, heartbreak or mourning. Sheets of rain fell and splashed on the darkened pavement. The sun hadn’t even made the tiniest of cameos and by now it was due to set. I gazed out the window at the concrete buildings that danced around the station. They were utilitarian units, spiritless and filled with modern Britain’s standard retailers.

>>7202091
A beautifull-sifting of ink/photons pass'd round, no fat garnishes—and w/each sentence a pattern of neurons lit up in my twisting mush passages, awakened for once, some serious chemistry, expand your post→for the ppl!