the continuation of chapter 2: Bacon and Legs
Don’t listen. The music in the night; it calls. Through dreams it whistles, sharp and shear. Through stone hewed walls, over the heavy waves that crash against them. It comes from a mouth of salt lips...
Don’t listen. The music in the night; it calls. Through dreams it whistles, sharp and shear. Through stone hewed walls, over the heavy waves that crash against them. It comes from a mouth of salt lips...