Ben’s Bit, part three – The Oak Leaves
by Steve Tanham
After exercise in the tree-lined yard of the old gaol, I am returned to my cell, clutching a fallen twig of oak. Yellow eyes doesn’t seem to mind this simple addition to the contents of my room, and lets me keep it. “They will fade and crumble soon,” he mutters, as though the judgment carries enough negative weight against the idea of keeping them. “You can … Read More Ben’s Bit, part three – The Oak Leaves
Sun in Gemini 