1209 8 2
|
Entering that darkroom is like slipping through the barrel of a rifle.
|
107511
|
No, I’m not at the junior high bus stop. I’m at the dining room table with my parents.
|
26942
|
The door of the Continental opened an old man, a true geezer, stepped out, scratched his baked potato-shaped head. He was wearing sky blue polyester pants, Velcro shoes, a white striped polo that accentuated his man boobs and turkey neck. This man hunched
|
1250117
|
No bustling inside
No extruded amber
Wings onyx straight jackets
A low hum of displeasure.
|
100812
|
In today’s print-on-demand and digital world, there are unlimited avenues for aspiring writers to circulate their work, but deregulation and limitlessness often leads to chaos. Writers are more inclined to release unpolished work that fails to rise to the
|
