Arms aren't supposed to bend that way. Barely even this thought is able to pervade the white-hot rush of agony washing the man's pinned limb. It will never work right again, the fallen branches piercing his bicep have seen to that. But those thoughts are being generous--they assume that he will ever get the chance to try. That he might make it out of this bind to ever use it again. That the gusts building through the wood-cracked sky above wouldn't claim him here and now.
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Not Helping
أدب المراهقين"School. Work. Home. That was all you had to do..." If Viviane Belodrome could keep her head in school, maybe everyone else would too instead of passing time trying to convince her of the Summit St. Savior. If Karin Orellana had gone straight to w...
