scene

There were killer bees swarming on fallen honeycombs. A women swayed to the sounds of a dusty song echoing from the record player. She wore chiffon. She was sad. A cigarette in her hand sent smoke swirling to the ceiling in a pattern that outlined her life, twisted yet captivating. There was an old stinky couch with ugly flowers of red blood and deep purple. Twitching chicken carcasses lay next to the bloody stump where seconds earlier their heads had been chopped off. A swanky smell on the air of incest and torment. Honey, this isn't a place for pink dresses with lace trim. This is where people come to sin and no one asks why. The devil's house. A house of sacrilege.