Boraro swallowed the last of the heart and wiped his hands back and forth on his pants. He watched the flames grow. Dry, sun-baked wood crackled and snapped. In moments, the shack was an inferno.
"Noon," the Disemboweler repeated. "Or I will come back hungry." He waved to the little girl. Then he turned with the others, walked to the car, and drove away.
Cover Design © Rick Wayne
Regent Illustration © Robert Sammelin, San Francisco
Word Vomit Illustration © Jethro Wall, Costa Mesa
Copyediting and proofing by
Karen Conlin, Dark Angel of Grammargeddon
Grammargeddon.com
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© 2014 Rick@DreadfulCafe.com
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