He was pushing fifty, with a face life had chewed on, and long wisps of graying hair parted low on one side and combed over his balding pate.
I find it difficult to attend autopsies. Especially the smells.
My friends call me Miss Worst Case Scenario.
I like crazy shoes or unusual cowboy boots and I collect big belt buckles.
We create our own worlds. We destroy our own worlds. It is that simple.
rain slowly slides down the glass as if the night is crying.