by Marius Surleac rest your wounds in my shelter tomorrow when I’ll have to die you shall give me a kiss

Still life

by Marius Surleac through dice the six-shooter gleams at the burnt end of the bullet at the other end, like in a comet tale, blood…

Pestis vetus

by Marius Surleac hell is beyond the grey blocks – the desert where no human skeletons resisted to erosion, but became part of