Midnight Curse

The clock struck three in the morning as John shook the match out and took a drag on a fresh cigarette. Grabbing his drink, he made his way over to the couch and sat, exhausted yet unable to sleep. The haze of smoke stung his dry eyes. He took a sip and sighed. “Fucking Raleigh!”

Comments are closed.


About Us | Advertise with us | Privacy Policy | Terms of Use
Get This Theme


All content is Copyright © 2005-2010 b5media. All rights reserved.