Who would tell these people the truth?
On the 12th day of drinking since my lover jilted me,
8 o’clock.
The cool night air embraced me as I stepped up to the large double doors with my family.
A wholesome, traditional Christmas story to warm hearts and minds
‘Einar…’
Hard to tell where they roam seasons past Or what blood scent draws them backBut back they come before the…