The footage said it was 9am when the car crashed – turned to nothing but blood and the smell of painted metals burning in the air. Two days, 18 hours and seven minutes later, on an icy November morning, Mark lay in a coffin, dead as a doornail. It was a small wooden box, with […]
Tag: Specialist World Championship
Posted inPoetic License
The scars of her henna
Posted inPoetic License
And so it is
Posted inPoetic License