My Patreon short story contest appears to be a success! Each month, I draw a name […]
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From Joe's writing

Jimmy Cross stood alone in the park, watching the rain slow to a drizzle, thinking about life and death. Unlike all of the previous nights, nights he’d spent thinking he’d soon be reunited with his wife and daughters, tonight was different. He knew what he was, knew his wife was probably long dead and his daughters grown and married with children of their own, knew that they were never coming back for him. He knew he was alone.

— Memories of a Ghost, chapter 38