Child Of Whispering Sorrows

Let me tell you about him; the child of whispering sorrows



Now, Hope sits banal in its tattered seams, and Life, for all its promise, is never as it seems

Hardboiled Eggs I

At the bar, the bartender’s eyes are intent on Table 8, where those obnoxious ashawos are sipping their drinks. An ungodly, almost sensual, kind of pleasure courses through his veins while his fingers caress the rim of a bottle underneath the bar.

The bottle he keeps for special customers…