Friday Noir: Bitter Little Words
I was born of the word.
The thoughts, ideas, emotions flowing from my brain, down the tendrils of my nervous system, and out like a rushing black river through my fingertips.
Bleeding on the keys.
The bitter little words of darkness and trouble.
The strength of the desire gives the sanction of righteousness and justice.
This one is on ode to the old masters.
The ones that brought us the pulp and the fiction.
And to the new masters as well.
Between our dreams and our lives lie this world.
© Mark V. Krajnak | JerseyStyle Photography | All Rights Reserved 2013