NFFD

• The Faces of Harry Slade

  June 22, 2013

  It had been a normal sort of Sunday, so far. The sun had shone for most of the day. Lawns had been mown. Cars had been washed. Children had been yelled at. And Harry Slade had lain in his bed. He’d lain there all morning. The sun squeezed through the closed, but gappy, slats of…

  Read more: The Faces of Harry Slade