Apr 16
It was the start of summer and the sun hid behind the clock tower of the church. Sam Newell sat on the crumbling stone wall at the front of the church with his best friend, Scott. Behind them, scattered gravestones punctuated the worn grass that stood at the front of the church. Scott wondered …
We have many promises to amend and agreements to keep now that Hell has begun its freezing over. If it is eternal, then we never have left, and never do escape, or remember Our lives released. They kept trying to build this up, out, and were solidified into rock, leaf, and rust, wider, planetary, abandoned, searched and discovered. I am the pig that flies.