Vacant eyes meet vacant eyes meet vacant eyes meet vacant eyes. Can there be more? There must be more. Reach inside. Deep inside. Fingers run over the lying tongue, down the throat, probing deeper and deeper and deeper. Grasp the writhing truth. Purged. Insubstantial blame. Purged. Inconsequential anger. Purposeless discourse. And now a promise of benevolent malice. A promise of impending violence to you, my friend. This is a promise to you, my friend.
