The Day of Judgement

Bill the Butcher- These people couldn’t be sinners; what sin had that little girl, skeletonised in her mother’s arms, committed? What had that dignified old lady, writhing now as she burned, done to suffer such a fate? What kind of puppet-master of a deity would condemn them to such a fate?

The Boomerang Kids

Poetry by Amnesia Grok- That night, I dream of the perfect son, & I dream of what he’d be like. Come next morning, I find that Dream Child still in my head, & he’s taking online classes & demanding piano lessons!\