What do you expect, being born on Friday the 13th? That was my fate without me knowing it and the madness that followed, followed the madness that followed the madness.
The father never got his watch fixed. It was a valuable clue, a historical artifact. He’d never tamper with stuff like that. It was found in his apartment after his own death, still frozen at 10:52.
An uplifting poem for Father’s Day Got the body bag blues Reckon I paid my dues Father, brother, mother, son, wife All dead and gone, deprived of life. Just me … Continue reading Body bag blues