FantasticLand

by Mike Bockoven

Time was, before I started working there, that I could be a hard-ass bitch, and when I quit my crying, I realized I was an angry, hard-ass bitch and I was sitting on a shitload of guns.

Guts pushed together into, like, a paste, I guess. I remember the blood standing in stark contrast to the gray in the sky because of all the cannon smoke.