'Before she was fully awake, the Thing came to her bedside... It raised its arms, the black talons of its hands hooked and grotesque; and they seemed to hang above her a lifetime.' - The Joonka Junka, Murray Pickles.
'The tumble-drier had done its work well. There was no odour, no moisture, just bones and sinews... With the constant tumbling the desert-dry, parchment-dry skin and flesh had crumbled...' - Florence in the Garden, Alan Temperley.
'The soil had been scraped away, exposing her marble features, and her blank eyes reflected the cold light of the moon. Her sagging mouth was a black chasm in her earth stained face. Timmi, in his agony, had wanted to be with her so badly...' - The Missionary, Jonathan Cruise.
Sit back and read on... but wait - are you quite sure you remembered to lock the back door...?
'Before she was fully awake, the Thing came to her bedside... It raised its arms, the black talons of its hands hooked and grotesque; and they seemed to hang above her a lifetime.' - The Joonka Junka, Murray Pickles.
'The tumble-drier had done its work well. There was no odour, no moisture, just bones and sinews... With the constant tumbling the desert-dry, parchment-dry skin and flesh had crumbled...' - Florence in the Garden, Alan Temperley.
'The soil had been scraped away, exposing her marble features, and her blank eyes reflected the cold light of the moon. Her sagging mouth was a black chasm in her earth stained face. Timmi, in his agony, had wanted to be with her so badly...' - The Missionary, Jonathan Cruise.
Sit back and read on... but wait - are you quite sure you remembered to lock the back door...?