Writer, globe-trotter, history student, swashbuckling pirate. I make a mean quesadilla.
Quite fond of writing and even fonder of making a happy reader out of someone like you.
For a self-proclaimed minimalist, Joseph Daneka fails spectacularly at it.
The cabbies skinless hands gripped the wheel. Bones, tendons and muscles leaving a trail of fluid on the wheel as it spun to pull the cab out. The driver looked backwards casually. “Rough day at work?”
“He sees you” the man said in a raspy voice. “He watches you every day. We watch you, always.”
Lines like these really help paint a picture of the darkness of his character.
I can feel it. I can see the afterlife. Death can’t be the end. Why not just let go?
Lines like these really help paint a picture of the darkness of his character.