My h’nds tremble on the keybo’rd. If they don’t like my next work I’ll be killed. Killed ‘nd repl’ced. I wish I h’dn’t broken th’t letter.
Pete Sain likes to show what’s in his brain, preferably before the autopsy.
He no longer cared about the drugs, the money, his cheap whores or his expensive cars. There were more important things now. Like feeding.
Sometimes Pete Sain writes. Here’s proof.
He sat in the café and stared at his gold coin. By God, he’d actually danced for pennies….It was a whole other life, just days ago.
Pete Sain writes with a coffee in one hand and a beer in the other.