My Head Is Killing Me
Short Story My head is killing me. I get up from my desk and walk over to the water cooler. It’s 3:00pm and I’m not sure if it’s still Monday or not. I...
Tagged: Dark
Blackbird Artist
Poem Something drips, Thick like candle-wax, Warm like blood, From the top of the canvas down to the bottom, Making a jet-black streak on the blinding white. A pair of wings shadows the...
