First life, then death by pfgpowell

I HEAR the scrabbling, I hear it every night, in the ceiling and sometimes in the walls, and they know I’m listening because they’ll stop just to fool me, pretend they’re not there, but I know what’s going on, I know, I can’t prove it, but I know, they’re working with Wayne and Lois and...

This content is for 12 Short Stories in 12 Months members only.
Log In Register