I remember the speckles of my blood in the snow. Where I watched the Starlings in the cold of the year, as they spangled the sky and my sorrows turned into something else.
Delware unveiled his tale of what he'd done to the cat, some time last year. This was one of his grim tales of vivisection for kicks. The tool of his trade was a rusty piece of barbed wire.
Under Fatz Bluey’s employment the fertilizers and groceries that once filled the boot were to be supplanted with AK47s, Gloks and huge sheets of ice white crack cocaine.