I found this boy famished on the side of the road, with dirt smudges across his face. The boy looked like he was thirteen or maybe fifteen years of age.— He didn’t speak much. We rode the lonesome road and let the asphalt take its time. Fourteen minutes had passed. ‘Riley’ the boy stared ahead. …
This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence/gore. The crackling of burning branches set the mood for a hazy trip down memory lane. At night, a forest held secrets that couldn’t be seen in the daylight. Makes you wonder if those things are real. But then again; the acts of the moon are mysterious. …
