Sixty something working stiff (retired). Avid reader, dreamer, and searcher. I write poetry, short stories, and non fiction. Shades of the surreal, the horrific, the nostalgic, and the humorous. I have had work published in the Shelburne Free Press and on Spillwords Literary Press.
Originally posted on Brighton Rose:
Somewhere in the back alleys of the city’s older section there was a crumbling brick building that had been around since before ragtime music was popular. Hanging above a faded green door that led down to the building’s cellar was a wooden sign, and despite the peeling paint, you could…