Short Story
Black Shrunken Blemish
When Frances had to speak publicly, her legs shook. As a kid, she had grown faster up than she had out and she had felt
When Frances had to speak publicly, her legs shook. As a kid, she had grown faster up than she had out and she had felt
*synth beats* bright plastic blue screen green screen *auto-tune screams* chunky glasses tuned-in apathy *boy band* drive fast die young pretty corpse *twangy guitar*
While he sleeps I catalogue his body. When he is awake I keep my distance. While he dreams I touch and map in a
My first real breath of air smells of pine and woodsmoke. It comes to me on a cool breeze, mid-afternoon, a sunny day that
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