Why is it the dark we fear most?
He still trusted his strength and his memory, but not his judgement. That part was no longer with him. It escaped somehow when he wasn’t paying attention.
Standing there, shriveled, he notices the cleaners didn’t put enough starch in his shirt; he needs the added back support these days – spineless, you see.
Like a mother’s lullaby in a foreign tongue
Her father stood up from his seat slowly until he towered over the Mayor whose head now reached no higher than the Butcher’s paunch. And like the volcano that created their island, he erupted…
Then she saw him, the veil of ignorance pulled back suddenly and with no warning.