Ghost Women In Another Vegas - A Poem
This is better than the last testament to her will, which has been reduced to a manuscript hidden in a rare and rusting trunk. Frothing and varnished, it waits.
This is better than the last testament to her will, which has been reduced to a manuscript hidden in a rare and rusting trunk. Frothing and varnished, it waits.
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.