Thursday, July 15, 2021
Good Morning, Johnson Dracula
Sleep is turning into alarm clocks all down the street. The night has crawled in with him, purring like a black cat. He rests in the basement in a casket seasoned with dirt from Transylvania. When he wakes at midnight, he carefully brushes his tuxedo clean. He’s never seen the morning, but he imagines this is what it’s like to face another day at the job.
Posted by allen frost at 2:14 PM