Sep 15, 2013
The Sweetest Fruit is the Sun
Eventually he would have newsstands around the globe, at which point he’d begin purchasing newspapers. He’d publish stories in them about how he and his family had to sleep on the beach, how they had to go without food, how sometimes he looked at people in clean clothes walking up and down sidewalks and want to lie down and let them walk over him, slowly liquefying in the sun, drizzling into dank asphalt cracks.
(I don't know; I think I have to rewrite this chapter pretty heavily in the next draft. It's too demented and too cartoony, although I like this fancy)