10.01.2020 - By Written by David J. Moton and Produced By Brent Van Tassel
The old man lingered in the liminal place that presaged sleep, that space where reality had variable density and fluctuating tactile strength. Moments of clarity, of skies with a blue so sharp they caused him to ache, were interspersed with vagaries, memories, haunting scars and echoes of the psyche in which he was intruding. This...