Randall Windle
Bio
UK Based Author, Bristol 🌉
Stories (26/0)
The Baron's Ceremony
The first drop of blood came after the third heap of soil. Erin grumbled. That number was for the night, but in truth it was around the hundredth of the farmer’s lifetime. Anxious grey hair flanked down his back, becoming tangled against the ugly green flannel shirt, and his worn-down jeans were frozen in place by the cold wind. Next to his right hip Yen pattered along the grass. She was a young cat, but her old soul was felt whenever she yelped with the intensity of an untuned violin. More blood spilled from his hand onto the metal edge of the spade, he grunted and continued to dig.
By Randall Windle3 years ago in Horror
Common Muck
Dust was kicked up from the pavement with each of her steps. It lingered sun-streaked in the air for a quarter of a millisecond then settled back, only to be stepped on by the heels of old gold and white sneakers. Mara Gemme, for all she was worth, didn’t notice. Despite the Chicago sun, many sour feelings from the day were still on her mind. She grimaced in the heat.
By Randall Windle3 years ago in Horror