The cult section of the literary world
by Pedro Proença There is a problem with language. In itself, it’s just a way of communicating uselessness. What we are are mere specks of something on a big beach. The beach is connected to a desert, and beyond that, we can’t even imagine. Once I swallowed a car. It […]
by Pedro Proença Mrs. Klaus was giving her third blowjob of the night when she heard a bang. The sound scared her, and made her bite down on the penis, severing it from its owner, a fat hobo. She got up and ran to her cardboard box. The fat hobo […]
