W.P. Walker A mist had settled between the window and the horizon, not the kind that obscures but the kind that muffles, so that the world beyond the glass was still moving
Fluent Corpses STOP. Stop speaking. I said stop. Your mouths are open and what comes out of them is formaldehyde, a preserving fluid, and you are preserving nothing because there is nothing
Death And Taxes He had learned that grief is mostly clerical, and that the living must notarize what the dead have left unsigned.
Dead Wires They began as the gestures of living men and women who for one unrepeatable instant felt the current pass through them and acted from it. Then came the followers.
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