Bleach
The killer awoke before dawn, the gray light entering the windows of an abandoned rest stop where he’d taken the life of the second and last night had finished the burning and grinding of his body so that what pieces remained in his possession might be scattered out the door of his car. This was Northern California and he’d come down through Oregon over the past several weeks. He’d lost time and perspective while within his state and this was part of it.
A short story by Grant Maierhofer.
3:AM in Lockdown 13: Matthew Turner
Fresco By Matthew Turner. I prefer not to. Instead, I would rather think about the normality, not the difference. I would rather imagine a vast fresco painted on the walls of a small cell, depicting spaces of enormous enclosure. There would be a cloudless sky, a blurred horizon. There would be innumerable […]