I notice young girls picking flowers off her gravestone; their clean hearts are soapstone. Their small sorrows are for children alone. And all of their stories will never be told.
Nicholaus PatnaudeTag: horror avant-garde emergency-press
Once upon a time Karen saw somebody nobody else could see. She thought to ask an old man: who were you? Once upon a time I thought to dream of medicine. Now I dream of medicine by the sea.
Nicholaus PatnaudeTag: tragedy suicide gothic literary-fiction tragic-love-story emergency-press first-aide-medicine new-books-2013
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