Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

I slipped inside, the window beckoned. Underneath the seed, I sowed a weapon. The time, the tide, I never knew which. The persistence of time, penance for the witch. I opened, it closed, the door ajar. Sunny wisdom given to icy colds. I asked, forgiven, not waiting to know. Hello, a wave was seen. Within me, I be. There is no other, there is no me. I slipped inside, the window beckoned.