Garrison took him to his favorite place, the Garden of Sinking Stars. He led him through curtains of pink and rouge flower petals, deep into the trunk of a great gold wood tree. An artistically carved pool, barely deep enough to submerge the feet, covered the floor. Angels and eagles flew in spirals, each unique… Continue reading My walking Days are Done.
The Walk Black, the kind of all-consuming dark that forced the imagination to conjure phantasms to stave off madness. I heard the clanking of chains long before they snapped taut in the large wooden portcullis creek and began to move. Three large clangs, unlocked the outer doors. It had been days since I had seen… Continue reading The Walk