Chronos Devouring His Son [Short-Story] by Issa Dioume

Time seems to slow like running water gone still. Haunted and lost by the ghosts of the minds’ windmill trapped in the slow tic-tac motion of the clocks’ hands that kill. Strangling air out from his throat. I need a cig thought Barnaclos. Nothing beats the delicious smell of cigs, warm coffee and cold beer.…