Doorgrave to the Bittersea


Doorgrave to the Bittersea Mark Howard Jones

“; his so-called life, the shell he inhabited that now passed for a life.”

Razor sharp, scrying lens, the woman he once loved buried and now seen askew migraine, poetic prose transcendence…

I can only retweet my tweet from earlier this morning, tweeted before reading this story; it felt almost as if all the story’s elements had already inspired me before my actually reading it! And its gestalt was already a ready-made.

“As a child, the sand had always infuriated and delighted him as it slid away under his soft shoes, his small feet. A million, million tiny creatures crushed to pieces and thrown upon the shore for his childish delight.”

My previous review of this author:

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