| A Micro Graphic Novel Project |
| She pulls my starter |
| By the chainsaw |
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| I warm up fast, even on a cold day, yet she always wears rough gloves to handle me. |
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| I respond obediently to every squeeze as she forces me down into the damp wood. |
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| Cut, cut, cut. Cleaving wood as deep as her torso I scream, and musky sawdust drops from my blades. |
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| I am left to grow cold in the dark shed, as she lies with another in the heat of the fire we prepared together. |
| List all stories |
