By Phibby Venable An angel was perched delicately on the straight back chair in the corner, but everyone pretended not to see her. At least it appeared that way to fifteen – year old Katie, who couldn’t take her eyes off the golden wings and slim figure. “Mama, don’t you…
by Meghan Hawthorn Appearing alive. I call that art. Her body framed by a red chair, cigarette hanging from a limp hand and slouched to one side. Bright red lips parted slightly, seductive eyes half-open and glazed over under caked-on eyeliner and mascara. She looks almost unamused with one boot…