07/02/2016 Image – “Industrial Lighting” by Matthew Baldwin
And nothing else.
Black Lake was Pop’s favorite place.
Nameless is so lost.
It’s an unpleasant sight, I know, but the truth is they cook better this way.
It had been years, but there was no mistaking your handwriting on the postcard. “Come meet me.” That’s all. Just three words scribbled out in black ballpoint, but that was all I needed to know it was you. The card itself was nondescript, one of
The stones were there when we woke up one morning. We have no idea how they got there: a row of boulders spread out in a half-mile arch on the western outskirts of town. Other than the placement, there was nothing unusual about them whatsoever.