The afternoon sun blinds Marty after a night of bingeing; his tattered pants hang loosely around his hips. Clara walks sleepily behind him and wraps her arms around his middle and helps him fasten his belt as he polishes off the dregs of something strong in his cup. The parking lot out side of the … Continue reading The Dead
The Boss
“I can believe you plugged him Marty, what would your mum say” the man with the pointed hat calls out, he sits in the back of a pearl white Cadillac. The only light from the back seat is the ruby on the tip of his cigar, with every puff his round features can be seen. … Continue reading The Boss
Thought of a Thinker 