“We moved out West for the air”… More violent delights, courtesy of Everett Ambrose, a horror writer, and Andrea Ledford, master of miniature horrorscapes.
Poem by Everett Ambrose
Diorama by Andrea Ledford
From the journal of Evelyn Ambrose, discovered posthumously, 1886
We moved out West for the air
Doctors said it would be better
For his tuberculosis
Which wasn’t choking him fast enough
We’d picked Dodge City together
San Francisco was too far away
But there would have been doctors in San Francisco
So Dodge City was perfect for us
Afterwards, our room looked like murder
It would be the last time he was violent with me
White arsenic mixed in his laudanum
This time he had reason to rage
Dodge City doesn’t suspect a widow
He was buried amongst thieves and outlaws
With a crooked cross twined together
Jutting from his dusty dry grave on the plains
A quarter for scale
About The Author
Everett Ambrose is a speculative fiction writer as well as an existential dread life coach. He resided the Midwest with people he pays to be his family. All complaints should be directed to his Instagram @ev.ambrose.writes
About The Artist
Andrea Ledford is a mixed media artist, musician and costume designer, currently specializing in carefully handcrafted, vintage style, 3d miniature horror scenes
Leave a Reply