

Wayfaring...It's 1 of the clock, that's in the AM.Wayfaring...
I'm sitting on a swivel chair, at the counter of some Ma-and-Pa diner out off the highway
I order an egg, sunny-side. two flapjacks, the real deal, not them silver dollar things. Coffee. Black.
To my surprise, the food comes out steaming. It also comes out gleaming with buttery grease, but that didn't surprise me at all.
There's a girl at the back table, looks to be about 16 maybe 17. She's the third so far.
I sop up the egg with the second pancake, down the coffee and pa


The SoldierThe SoldierThe Soldier
He crouches towards the animal as someone who doesn’t understand his surroundings, like a child who has wandered into the street. His shoulders are relaxed, and his face bears no markings of a weathered man. His eyes are captivated and kind, lacking the bags and darting eyes of a veteran fighter. His brow is smooth, lacking the furrows of vigilance a soldier must possess. But his strange attire evokes the truth, he knows what is happening. He wears the flower around his helmet, acknowledging this new Vietnam. He knows this killing is reckles
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stay gold old souls.
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Victor Cabanelas
Freelance comicbook artist.
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