Leeds is almost here. As I type my trusty app tells me there are 15 hours, 41 minutes and 47 second until the festival fun starts. Slightly longer for me. Closer to twenty-four. Plenty of time for planning.
Always better up here in the North.
Shame Lauren never achieved her dream and like so many sixteen year olds, post G.C.S.E.s – not that she did any – passed into adulthood to a soundtrack of distorted guitars and wailing vocals.
The Red Marsh King had other ideas.
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ianhedley - Indie Horror / Dark Fantasy Writer 