I Need My Pills

We Blew It… Is It True… Source: I Need My Pills Source: I Need My Pills


The horrible bird was beginning to burn. Neither priest nor deacon headed its haunting cries. The task was set before them. Symbolic, ritualistic and ever so real, expected of them, day after day hour after hour, year after year. The horrible birds be damned. Be boiled. Be sacrificed. The townspeople had long ago left off coming….