One Word: Pit and Fiction in 58
You know that feeling. The one you get in the pit of your stomach. The one that tells you that whatever choice you just made will have consequences and regrets. The one that makes you afraid to look back, walk faster. What was I thinking? Doors squeak, stairs creak, shadows fall. Light a candle, the dark is coming.
Edgar Allan done broke loose in the Paris burg. Whither this Dee-ish imp, she ain’t on no Bible flyleaf.
There is light and darkness in all of us. I just try to follow the moths – they seem to know the way 🙂