By Zachary Parson
It was a bird with a yellow yarn string wrapped around it’s dimly lit tangerine beak,
sitting in a confined rusty cage, almost like a jail cell, or simple resting area, depending on your interpretation. The door was open, I mean wide open, the farthest open it could possibly go, so open that the door held hands with the side of the cage beside it.
Drawing by Zachary Parson
HOWLER LIT 