It was a splendid summer afternoon, the sky a deep, gleaming blue and the air filled with the songs of chirping sparrows as Bartholomew Wethers strolled through the bustling streets of Old Town Eureka, a bundle of fresh cut flowers for his wife clutched in Continue reading A New Man By Matthew Brockmeyer
“John, its Davey. I got the envelope. Yeah, the fucker didn’t even try to hide it. It was on the table under an Oprah magazine, I shit you not. Yeah man, I’ll be there in ten.”
The elderly taxi driver drops me off at a chain link fence blocking the main drive of the University of Hollinsbridge. “You sure you want to do this, lad?”
PULP METAL MAGAZINE 