Pencil Dust Devil
In a whirlwind of lead, I fled inside my head, imagined myself dead, and met the devil. His horns were pointy red; "Your soul is mine," he said. I wished I was in bed. That’s … Read more
In a whirlwind of lead, I fled inside my head, imagined myself dead, and met the devil. His horns were pointy red; "Your soul is mine," he said. I wished I was in bed. That’s … Read more