The road. The caravan. People taking pictures of the caravan with little pronghorn cameras. Flashes of light.
My leg is black, said the Dead Father.
But funing, said Thomas, gratulate yourself.
You carved me very ly, said the Dead Father. I admit it.
Oh it was a grand fire, said Thomas, very persuasive.
The Wend try is bumpy to a fault, said the Dead Father. I am glad we are out of it.
Jumble-gut lahomas agreed.
Those that are the fathers of themselves miss something, said the Dead Father. Fathers, to be precise.
Fatherhood as a substructure of the war of all against all, said Thomas, we could discuss that.
I speak to that, said Julie.
Me too, said Emma, for I know nothing about it, and am thus presuppositionless.
A state of grace, philosophically, the Dead Father observed.
Julie began.
The father is a motherfucker, she said.
By definition, said Thomas.
The vagina, she said, is not where its at.
We agree, said Thomas, weve heard that.
Moving north, one……（内容加载失败！）
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