The Truth Still BreathesBy Roy Dawson Earth Angel Master Magical HealerThe boy was not thrown away. He was placed. There’s a difference. One is done in a fit of rage, the other with cold hands and colder plans. You don’t throw something you want to forget. You place it—like a trap. Or a body.They thought he’d break.He didn’t.They thought

The Witch's TongueThe sky was still and heavy. I sat alone, listening to the wind slide over the rooftops like a whisper that didn’t want to be heard. That night, God spoke. Not in thunder. Not in fire. But in silence beside the television set. He gave visions. Six or seven, clear and hard as bullets. And one of them — one — was dark enough t