The patterns seemed to alter their shape as he stared up at them from his bed, breaking and re-uniting, incessantly in search of form, pulsing with some vibrant energy. And beneath it all, the young man just lay there, broken. Wispy talons of curling smoke stung his eyes...
Weepy and Nardy I sat at a wooden dining table in a house just at the junction of East Street, Mell Road and Woodrolfe Road. I guessed the house stood roughly where Leavett’s Butcher’s stands today. The tall man and the short man had walked in front and I had followed them without question. &nb...