Quote:
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Originally Posted by ToSeek
Okay:
Quote:
RED RECEDED FROM HIM
GREEN LIGHT ATTACKED
Code:
INDIGO WITH SPEED A SNAKE
UNDULATED SICKENING LIKE SHUDDERING
Touch was taste to him . . . the feel of wood was acrid and chalky in his mouth, metal was salt, stone tasted sour-sweet to the touch of his fingers, and the feel of glass cloyed his palate like over-rich pastry.
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(Ignore the "Code:" part - that's the only way I could get the text to be even approximately correct.) |
Admit it - you had always wanted to do that. :wink:
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"The moment we want to believe something, we suddenly see all the arguments for it, and become blind to the arguments against it." -George Bernard Shaw
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