Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. "You will not hesitate to break it, if it suits your purpose. If only one might open the shutters and let in the light. ‘Until today. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. His name is John. They were sitting alone, Lucy. Their colorful displays seemed to repel the dreariness of the sky as each group savored its long awaited moment, its weekend arrival in front of the opposite sex.
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