Take my hand in yours, we’ll walk together through the world I want so desperately to be real turn corners past familiar street signs in the dim light of the moon the warmth of something that isn’t and never could be you know, the coldness in this world exists for a reason
The man at the pulpit is screaming now. The same fiery hells and demons from last week, from last month, from last year. Don’t these people ever tire of it? I’m just glad my new dress has pockets, at least this way I can type on my phone while the preacher talks and the time isn’t a complete waste. They say that everyone is evil, and that it’s all the same in the end.
I’ve decided to start a new writing challenge. Every week on Sunday, by midnight I’ll post a new original story on this site. I make no guarantees as to genre, length or overall quality, but I’ll make something. I want to do this for at least 6 weeks after which I may change the rules depending on how things go. To kick us off, I’ve got an entry for this week.