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Sweets, My Dearies?
The neighborhood peeled away like protective film from a new gadget, revealing a horrific scene. Screams of children rose from the woman’s residence, accompanied by sounds of bone breaking, hacking and sawing, as the brownstone contorted into a shack. Immediately, the door to the shack swung open. Inside was a kitchen with hideous tiles and a horrible paint job. Herbs hung upside-down, strung up on butcher’s twine rounded the 8x8 space. A wood-burning stove with multiple larg

Alexander
4 min read
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