“I pushed her in a wheelchair, and she became my eyes.
From then on...
She saw the world’s tragic beauty for me, and I traveled with her through every dead end.”
Inside an eighty-four-foot stretch of street.
The storyteller smacked the wooden clapper in his hand. “And that brings us to what comes next: a blood-soaked battle stretching three thousand miles!”
A customer asked, “Who were they?”
“They weren’t human!” the storyteller replied.
The customer asked in confusion, “If they weren’t human, were they ghosts?”
The storyteller said, “That’s right. They were devils from hell!”
