One of the members of the Old Crow Book Cub had been MIA for a couple of months. The last I'd seen of him was near his domicile, a busted truck with a canopy parked near a creek I often visit. We talked of his love for fantasy novels and their worlds far, far, away from his life as a young homeless man.
A Conversation
A Conversation
A Conversation
One of the members of the Old Crow Book Cub had been MIA for a couple of months. The last I'd seen of him was near his domicile, a busted truck with a canopy parked near a creek I often visit. We talked of his love for fantasy novels and their worlds far, far, away from his life as a young homeless man.