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#648

#647

A hobo takes up residence in a McDonald’s playpen.

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#645

Tears may be dried up, but the heart - never.
~Marguerite de Valois

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#644

the perfect crime

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#643

In the grey of last November
And the winter months that followed
There was left my soul and spirit
In the waters of my sorrow

Then I painted perfect pictures
And a smile that no one questioned
And inside we both were breaking
From the weight of our transgressions.
Alone...
~Eliot Morris

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#642

#641

An adopted babysitter finds out that the young children she babysits every month are actually her brother and sister.

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#640

"Where the hell are my pants?"

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#639