Of Running Like Hell

I enjoy violence. Like profanity, it is wonderfully descriptive of degenerative humanity. I favor the action of your story, however, it simply remained story. I couldn’t grasp it. I wanted more—and sometimes less. I was starved with language at times gratuitously full of it at other points. There is no doubt the story was well written, but there were too many peaks and valleys of too much and not enough. There were, at times, so many adjectives/adverbs the story was more painted than living. At other times, I wanted to know more. When you were tussling with Karl, did any spit drool from his mouth into your, were you pressed so hard together you were like lovers, and why don’t you know his last name? How did your eyeball taste, since there was no cheek to shield your mouth? People are violence…Thank you for your story, it was fresh. Only one other thing…and it’s a big one…Aleve is naprosyn, not aspirin.