“Tell me more about Carcosa,” the police investigators questioned the members of the Nightmare Factory book club one by one, “and this Yellow King.”
Joe, absentmindedly crafting voodoo dolls from empty cans of Lone Star, took a perfunctory drag from his ubiquitous Camel Light and quid pro quoed, “I don’t reckon you’ve got the right outlook to comprehend the answers to your questions,” peering superciliously across the timeworn tabletop, he continued, “much less the answers to the questions you should be asking.” He had won.
Confused, but undeterred, the police soldiered on. “We have it on record that you view time as a flat circle. How does that affect your participation in the activities, perverse or otherwise, of your book club?”
Propelling himself backward from his accuser, Joe smoldered, “Join us at the cafe in BookPeople on Tuesday April 15th at 8:00 p.m. to discuss The King In Yellow by…
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