As I walked out the door that warm Tuesday night in August, I looked back over the thresh hold at him as he stood in the small kitchen in the very little house. The way he held his jaw in profile in the late evening shadows, he looked for a moment like the Audio Thief. They taste the same. They smell the same. They even screw the same. “If” was the only thing going though my mind as I caught a glimpse of the Audio Thief out of the corner of my eye.
CONTINUE READING - PATREON - THE ART OF PUTTING TRUTH IN A LIE
you could’ve had me
Right there beside you
you could’ve had me boy
CONTINUE READING - PATREON - THE ART OF PUTTING TRUTH IN A LIE
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