Slut Threats

'Automatic writing' is writing without 'thinking'.

The Uncertainty Division + 2 friends (Dave and Emily) sat down, of an evening, and, writing a word in turn, stared at a blank sheet of paper until they saw a place to write a word.

The remaining story (entitled "slut threats") is printed below. (Punctuation is editorial).

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Wilful dangers dog our attempts and restrict culinary delights to but a few colourfully decorated pancakes, sauced. (Unhealthy? Decide yourself). We shall confess to all our misdemeanours, Jack, but never reveal your dark side: Remember, that bitch killed Boris when his sullen mistress retired weeping. (Unfulfilled? We tell not).

Buttering our mother and (Jack - we had oh so few qualms!) not letting me write or name nor evaporate... yet his voracious appetite to consume her could only emphasise, cruelly, my low IQ.

Whyever shouldn't Boris forget to shut the window above the couch? It lets cold air circulate, which is conducive.

Our health fails, without being taken seriously - yet forever entombed can?t mean forever unfortunately allowing fuschia pancakes with turquoise syrup to solidify quickly around me.

And I testified to her abrupt loss. So much consternation was everywhere. She, dying, gulped: "His subtly rounded ebony prophecies its end."
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