A Bronson Tale

Bronson suddenly spotted Celia wheeling a small hound and pushing her way through the circle of Howlers towards him. ‘Arthur Snout,’ Bronson whispered to himself, ‘is that really you?’ This was not the young pup he remembered from the orphanage days; here, staggering towards him, looking dazed, was Lonely Dog grown up. The bikers were […]

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