Shambling Around the Shambles of this Shamblehood
“Look, son, until you use the word ‘shamble’ and all its many derivatives in a sentence, you can’t profess to be taken seriously. You’re just fucking around.”
Shamble. Shambles. Men who shamble. Women, too, however unlikely it may seem, shambling down the street, aimless. Shambling. Shambling buildings. Cities and entire economies in shambles. Shambling love. Shambling hate. Children and pets, little shamblers each their own, engaged in a shambling mimicry of the many shamblers they encounter shambling. A dream that shambles through one night and lingers unsteadily the next morning, a vague, pointless and hollow representation shambling through the shambles of this shamblehood on its way to nowhere.
