<chikaskia steps across the squeaky, loose floorboards of the old popjourno
mansion, far up tea kettle lane. pushing on the massive front door, it
slowly creeeaks open. mice and crickets skittle as he steps inside. closing
the door behind him, undaunted by the shadows and dark, he closes his eyes,
breathes very quietly, and meditates. soon he is lost in a nostalgic reverie
of a bygone era. after a time, he realizes he is not alone. slowly opening
his eyes, he sees nothing, but senses the gentle heartbeats of the many
pop-ghosts and journo-wraiths lurking throughout the old place. the last
light of the golden red autumn sunset catches a glimmer of a tear softly
sliding down his cheek.
i miss you all
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+-------------------- new york, london, paris, tokyo ----------------+
+------------------ everybody talk about... popjourno! -------------+
+------------------- http://www.pulped.co.uk/popjourno --------------+
+--------- to send a message to the list, please address it to ------+
+----------------------- [EMAIL PROTECTED] -------------------+
+--------- declarations of love, presents, and otherwise saucy ------+
+-------- e-correspondence should be sent directly to the list ------+
+------------------- mummy at [EMAIL PROTECTED] -------------------+
+------------- popjourno currently has over 150 subscribers ---------+
+------------------------ (most of them lurkers). -------------------+
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