After a war. How can you ever get better? Will the pain ever go away? Can you... heal?
Time seems to slow like running water gone still. Haunted and lost by the ghosts of the minds’ windmill trapped in the slow tic-tac motion of the clocks’ hands that kill. Strangling air out from his throat. I need a cig thought Barnaclos. Nothing beats the delicious smell of cigs, warm coffee and cold beer. … Continue reading Chronos Devouring His Son [Short-Story] by Issa Dioume