loading . . . THERE'S A GIRL IN THE OUTWOODS - Ray Robinson The night lay quiet, the dark pressing in. The air in the abandoned mill smelled of rot, of machinery gone soft with time. She spoke aloud just to hear herself, the sound of her own voice giving her c... https://www.shortfictionjournal.co.uk/post/there-s-a-girl-in-the-outwoods-ray-robinson
