Women

The rain hammered against the windows of the old Victorian house, mirroring the frantic rhythm of my own heart. My aunt, Beatrice, stood before me in the dim light of…

The rain hammered against the stained-glass windows of the penthouse, each drop a tiny, insistent plea for attention. Below, the city lights blurred into an impressionistic smear of neon and…

The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the bar, a relentless, insistent rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of my own heart. Neon beer signs bled into the…

The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the barn, a relentless, primal rhythm that seemed to mirror the fever building within me. The air hung thick and humid,…