For when you can't afford silk
by Lauren Jackson Gunfire is a constant melody here; a tune that becomes synonymous with nature. The sun trickles in through a gray haze, a constant gray that drizzles despair over the soul. Screams of agony, the sounds of men in their death throes are constant companions. The sight, the sickly smell of life blood, […]
by Lauren Jackson The light expands from a small slit to a slithering mass, the soft tread on the carpet is muffled, the whining creak fills the ears as the door is opened. A hushed whisper, a fleeting indifference, a glow of moonlight on hardwood as the door is closed. Earl G. Ingersoll believes in […]