“One hundred-forty characters lay dead and buried. It was as good as over.”
Tweet of War.
Strange Apocalypses.
CURTAINS!
“Old and forgotten theatre curses slither and skitter through the frenzied carnage...”
The Slow Death of A Thursday Morning.
“The walls crawl home to the quarry, the keyboard now a wave of carbons and electrons flittering in the chill air.”
Silence is Golden.
“The resplendent song of the dawn chorus died a quiet death.”
