Sunday, March 23, 2014



"She crept slowly along the dark corridor, regretting her choice of direction. The air was thick, hot and wet with a hateful, bloody smell.  Cyclical echoing sounds of choking, maniacal laughter changing to a racking sob and quickly transitioning back to laughter accompanied her. When the spotlight flared, she saw the source of her processional soundtrack and it evoked far more hatred than pity."

Intaglio, 2014

© Marcus Howell


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