Ben lifted his head from the pillow. He looked out the window into the steel gray light of early morning. His eyelids felt heavy and after looking into his mirror he confirmed that he looked like the nearest representation of death, in other words he looked like Joan Van Ark. Ben shook his head and as he walked to the bathroom he remembered a time when he could wake up and feel refreshed. That time was before he moved into the quaint hamlet of Briarberry
Continue reading The Ballad of Briarberry and Ben, Part 1 by Chris Woodward.
