, ,

creak, drag

crick, drag

The left foot sliding across the ground

Broken at an odd angle

The joints, dry as a bone, cricking and creaking

Pale flesh hangs loosely

Arms at the side, limp like noodles

A glint in the eye

The lust for blood

The lust for brains

The lust for anything living

He was James

Gas Station Attendant

Now he is one with death