At three in the morning, I drop like stone, wondering about the future. It would be easier to rest in the jewel- like clarity of the past. Nostalgia feels like home to me. I often miss my home and the people there. Some of whom I can only hold in this corner of time. I want to…
Chapter 38: Small Towns
Chapter 37: The truth
Chapter 46: The awful thing
Chapter 45: Monsters
Chapter 44: A bit of cake
Chapter 43: Jack's got a job
Civilisation is a rolling swarm. The small are clustered together, driving forward, pretending to be greater than they are. The ‘self’ is cannibalised…
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The Hound's Bite