Bright lights, moving, through his eyelids. The slow crunch of approaching tyres. It had been a matter of time before they came for him. He closed his eyes more tightly. It was no use. The scene was always the same. Memory lane was a one-way street, a dead end, but he’d asked for it.
- from Chicken Soup
My new collection of short stories will be released next week. Thanks for all your support over the past couple of years. Hope to have you as readers.