Letter of the Week
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The ruins of the Great Coliseum rose out of the dust like the ribcage of a long lost dinosaur. The King stopped to catch his breath. The air here was thin, tasting of oxidized iron. On his back, the Ghost hummed—a low, electric vibration that rattled the King’s teeth. The Ghost had lied. It said
Leaving a mark
writing is an expression, a view of this world we live in and often unique to the observer.
there is no judgement, no attempt to convince anyone of anything, just a collection of neurons firing to move my wrist to illuminate the digital page with English letters.
The Oh!Zone 