HALLOWEEN HAUNTS: ONE HUNDRED HOURS OF ROTTING SOLITUDE by Rosemary Thorne
HALLOWEEN HAUNTS: ONE HUNDRED HOURS OF ROTTING SOLITUDE Rosemary Thorne It is thus, by the transformation of the body, that I have learned to become spirit. Zosimos ONE She woke up to light and felt part of the jungle, breathing through it. An explosion of exotic colors. Mesmerizing leaves and petals with unusual shapes. Somewhere, water fell over stone. Birds sang in the most fabulous language. Unapologetic beauty. She smiled to it. The smile awakened the pain. It did not come all at once. It grew slowly, like another being waking up inside her. She tried to move…






























