Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?

My brother Sydney, Doctor Ferris, and my darling Annabelle mourned me....but I'm not gone.

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It faltered; the gash I'd opened enveloped me as we both smothered in muddy ichor.


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  • Published 7 years ago.
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