by Bert Rock

Late one night, the hour and the moon are small as a motley crowd fills a tiny third-floor apartment, huddled around a bed and its sole occupant. A man, his beard equal parts red and gray lies in it asleep, and unstirred by the presence of the onlookers. They are all waiting, like the strangest family at a vigil for a coma stricken loved one.

It is not possible for so many to be inside the small space, and yet they are. Men, women, children, and other creatures fill the apartment. They move within and without, down…

Bert Rock

Arizona writer of fantasy fiction, children’s literature and passionate about social justice. BLACK LIVES MATTER!, follow @BertRock1

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