What can YOU say in six sentences?
No one goes out this night. Here, the earth binds and bends, gives up its contents in oily vomit, wet worm stench and all. Building exteriors blister and boil, statues and facades exhibit carvings of sutured faces bathed in blue moonlight, avenues of blasted trees stretch like black boned fingers, their silhouettes clutching and grabbing at the maw of night. Unspeakable monstrosities loll in every corner, slither over bridges, coil and cut along the gutters and walkways. Windows burn orange in blackened sockets and bristling lawns stab and carve, the waning moon, a rolling eye. Any other night though, it’s quite pleasant for an evening stroll… really.