“I guess everytime I reach out for a friend I shake the wrong hand. I end up being the madman and the other guy the manipulative bastard that tricked me into being one. 41 more words
Tags » Short Fiction Stories
Years past, bushes and undergrowth grew ever higher in the abandoned garden. Once so full of sun-shine and summer glow, now the pathway seems to go through a mysterious forest, something you might have read about in a fantasy novel.