Sunday, August 2, 2009


by Bhig3

Grey feet stumble above. The concussions echo through the walls, carrying them down to my furniture.My drawer, table and bed shake and then promptly stop.

The grinding overcomes the residual vibrations from before. I see the sun crest above the hills across the outskirts of the city, and it becomes quiet again.

Fucking Gargoyles.

No comments: