I am
tired
of being sad.Sometimes I think I can see the light through the dark black tunnel. The winding tunnel is where the walls are thick and black; it closes in on my smaller form, enveloping, engulfing till I suffocate and see the last thread of hope. A shy glimmer, and it grows and grows till the stars of light are bursting behind my eyelids ( Read more... )

The lights dimmed and flickered. Colourful horses with flaking paint revolved around as the delighted screams of the crowd faded away into the deepening shadow, along with the unreliable glow of the bright colourful lights ( Read more... )

I.     There is nothing more devastating ( Read more... )

It was a bargain made with the devil ( Read more... )

It was a still cold night ( Read more... )