He walked into the house with his shield grip in his left hand and his Dory rifle in his right. A thin black crest of charred residue lined the muzzle of the Dory and smoke still seeped from the barrel. Dirt, smoke, blood and blast marks covered the weapon like a tapestry flung onto a … Continue reading Helot
box in snow
It was a box in the snow. It lay open beneath a tree, its flaps draped at its side, wrinkled and sagging with ice. Eagerly awaiting for somebody to put something inside. For this is what box did. The last time it had been useful, it lay on the floor beneath a Christmas tree. Prim … Continue reading box in snow
