An observer wonders about the monstrosities that men worship
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I yearn to confront the evil head on, which in a way I did since it knocked me out cold, a sudden nothingness
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Beth’s dreams of late have taken on a dark, apocalyptic urgency. She finds herself in a place she describes as the isle of the dead, where she converses with demons,
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I drift into the shady joint, nothing else to do, and watch a few sharks perform their torque on green felt. Not my game though.
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The four sat at the supper table as usual, each gazing at the flickers of fire.
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