Nightmares, Nightmares, Nightmares

Nightmares were quiet. They sneak like a snake with a bad attitude. Infect and steal, trap and gorge--Nightmares made Angel feel useless. Worthless, small, strung, and broken. A mind without wings, angry at the world for no reason. Angel tried not to judge, tried not to bring the worst out of people. The nightmares, though, …

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Something with Feeling, Tragedy, and a little bit of Soul.

When objects break, we stick them back together. We hope they were as good as they once were, and when we can't fix it with enough effort, we find another way. Odd ways. Stupid ways. Low tech ways. Different ways. It gives us that fuzzy feeling of accomplishment. But cracks remain. The odor of a …

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