I am Liquid Stranger. Pour me down your gullet and drink. Sonic blooms decorate never desecrate. Welcome to the Hotel California where guests check in but they never check out.
What are you? A human Jukebox? Why must every crime scene trigger a song for you?
Creatures of DizComfort. Radio Check.
She left off the beauty of decomposing remains.
Jules left her back door open all the time. Rain storms, Torrential rain. Cyclonic winds. All in the name of our local Rev. Pastor Rod Golden who gave daily as well as nightly highly personalized counseling sessions. More like Golden Rod as his ratings and popularity with the recent widows and divorcees bordered on scandalous.
There was a gash in her head. Stab wounds all over her torso. She was a bloody bashed in mess. Salted molten lava gush from her……….. Looks like she was bayoneted 1000 times.
She was the niche that somebody carved out like a holy day gourd.
There is much beauty in empty overgrown abandoned lots as in the well kept garden with front and backyards. Mother Nature reclaims her own. Including the hidden bodies. More gifts to be discovered on Christmas day.
This one’s D.O.A. I’m hungry. Let’s go get a sandwich or a burger. Make mine rare.