The demon takes a long pull from a barely held together cigarette, pinpoint of orange the only color amongst the charred asphalt and blackened husks of burnt-out cars. Exhales harshly and resists the nagging urge to glance up.
Route 29 is still visible on a sharply bent sign post nearby.
With a sigh, he flicks the butt into the gravel and the gray
(
Read more... )