"Walk under the clouds, walk under the trees, always a canopy covering me" - Mudvayne, "Dull Boy"
Night has already fallen by the time I reach the edge of my clearing in the forest. The air is heavy and thick with humidity, lending it that odd velvety quality that only southern summer nights possess. I look up, but the sky that I so wanted to see is obscured by low, angry, grey clouds that promise one hell of a storm, and soon. I look to the center of the clearing and see a tall...Read On