#hermaphodite

Written by Michael Woodhead Copyright © 1969, 2023

Upon the night-wind blowing I hear a death-filled sigh From someone lost and wand'ring Someone about to die

I pass between the willows And weep as I defy The portals of the DeathRoom The end of Life is nigh

Within the sombre blackness I hear a shrill, high call It summons me to wander Within a hallowed hall

I enter, then, to blackness Upon the floor I sprawl My ears perceive a cry Which makes my skin, now, crawl

I see within the blackness A pair of glowing lights They travel closer to me I see in the moonlight

Andrew Salmon and Kyle Salmon. Age 12. Late night. USA. 

Andrew: I'd wish we could get moving soon, I miss the house we had when Mother was working for Microsoft. 

Kyle sighs and looks at his sister. 

Kyle: Andy, that's impossible for us, to get. Mom got pregant with that shitty little brat, why do you think we live in this neighbourhood? Because Crystals dad does. 

Andrew nods and cuddle closer with her brother.