(vol.
8W, no. 6; newsletter by b.n.)
There are some days when the newsletter writes itself; I sit down and it
just pops out of nowhere. Then there are other times when I just can't write
a thing; Harris sends a few emails frantically requesting the information;
before I finally sit down and painfully punch out every word.
There are some stories that must be told. Then there are others that should
not. Last night was definitely the latter.
THE
SILVER
SKULLS
(none
awarded)