Latest Article|September 3, 2020|Free::
Making Grown Men Cry Since 1992
G and I are led by the hand by a short, naked witch into her cave. I don’t know why. She has shelves and tables stacked with small dried animals. She warns us that she has burned the faces off of others with her spells when they crossed her. She consults a creature made of flapping cloth. She instructs us to pet it. A tall man in hood and black robes standing in the shadows searches for a term for the final hope of the deprived. ‘Mercy sex’, I offer. G slugs me in the side.