Chris wasn't where he should be. He should be at work, sitting at his desk, a place which is a ten minute walk from his home, but instead he is sitting on a bus travelling through a place he does not recognize. Chris has no recollection of how it is that he came to be where it is he is. In fact he cannot remember anything from after he woke up that morning up until this moment where he has just found himself sitting on a...
This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.3:07 in the morning,The void of night after the witching hour,When the world sleepsAnd the underlings of the underworldsSteal careless soulsAnd twist them crippledBefore returning themTo wreak their mischief bolder.I draw useless nicotineTo the edge ofAnother dimension,Through my decayed, gaping maw.No effect does this earthly t...
