His name… his name was Andrew. He’d rather I called him Andy, but when I was peeved or joking or just being an ass, it was Andrew. A bright young man from the far hills come North into the flats. His precious spirit like gooey caramel, cozy curtained sunshine, or warm fleece in a nippy room.
My heart screams thinking on him, yet I cannot do otherwise! You find a friend like that once, maybe twice, in a lifetime. And I….
Betrayal, either real or imagined, set my feet on this jagged path. His parting gift to me. A grim legacy of sorts. Don’t forget. Don’t forget?
How can I?
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For Thy Peace, My Soul
ParanormalThe tragic tale of an unwilling sin-eater. Each part is told succinctly in 100 to 120 words - a story of despair, corruption, horror, and ultimately... love. --- Please keep in mind the experimental part; if you attempt to connect the dots - to make...
