Jim

Divorced, alone I move into a northside condo built on the skeleton of a dead motel. Startled awake he’s curled like a ball inside the wall. Who ARE you? “No home, food, cold!”. He dissolves. The crying mother with bloody baby at my bedroom door. Raven haired woman roams the hall. Lost, wandering. Spirits of broken love, fire, murders? Antidepressants no longer work. Let go. Just pull the trigger. Join your friends.