There is a dead place, there is a place where the voices of dead men murmur and chatter and roar, there is a place on the factory floor where the remains of the dead will lie sprawled until thin-soled boots wear away the red and make it invisible, there is a violent ghost in Beacon ( Read more... )

Dark hair, blue eyes, little Irish-American boy, skinny, sickly, always cold, too quiet-where did the bruises come from this time ( Read more... )