Lies
“Why are you late?”
Prefer to read a series from the beginning? Haley's War is an unfinished chaotic fever dream, but it's a helluva ride.
“Why are you late?”
She whispered it aloud. Her voice. Lower, gruffer.
Forever now. Somehow that made it matter less.
Mirror. Signal. Breathe.
Between panes of glass, choice slips away.
Every shot taken draws the forest closer.
Vanilla musk. She never changes.
Nothing but a trail of broken bone and rotten flesh.
It started as a joke, really. Betsy dared me.
‘Tonight will be perfect’, she thought, snipping an errant shoot and placing the bonsai tree on the table’s centre. I will be perfect.
Lucy trembled…
“Two guys walk into a bar; the third one ducks.”