Beautiful, mysterious, haunting, invariably fatal. Just like life
There once was a house, a bright happy home, something bad happened, now it sits all alone. It's pillars are its bones, it's walls are it's skin, it's windows are it's eyes, won't you come in
Зло не отпустит тебя
He thrived on two kinds of people...his victims and his women!
A dreamer who couldn't sleep. An author who couldn't write. A friend who couldn't help but help.
Joel Rothman can't sleep