Ratself by the meat pit

Ratself by the meat pit

Ratself stumbles over rotten garbage into the dank alley behind Boneyard, dizzy with oblivion and welcome of it. They trip, lurching faceward into goop and grime, betrayed by a loose, fraying shoelace rapidly congealing into the mess. Ratself is wasted. Nose leaking,...

On Ghosts – Poetry

by: Clarabel “My heart has joined the thousands, for my friend stopped running today” – Watership Down A new ghost darts past the door, a silvery wisp, with sparkling eyes. Every other ghost in the house is woken, From sleep, from respite, from being locked in...