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I’d swoop down upon you each night and stand before you as a silhouette, as a shadow, as a black canvas upon which you paint the faces of all those you loath, as an embodiment of your fear—I’d force you to face your fear, which is at the root of all evil; afraid of change, afraid of difference, afraid of unanswerable questions you’ve held your tongue, spat your lies, chanted your curses, lifted your arm in the air.
Inspired by the never ending cycle of work and play that takes us from school and delivers us conveniently by the graveyard, Talking Soup shares the stories of everyday life however mundane or extraordinary.
Check out @EilidhGClark, our newest writer. Here's a wee bit of nostalgia for you all. Remember the joy of the mark… https://t.co/rmBXlt4YMU
The bossed asked if I knew how to delete a #sitehistory. Please, I've known that shit since before the days of… https://t.co/0AoSLG0ThG
J'ai laissé mon couer dans le salle de bains. Fuck. Potage parlant. #talkingsoup #writers #callforsubmissions