I wanted a sense of foreboding. A woman stands atop a hill outside her home. In one hand, she holds what’s left of the last chicken. In the other, a hatchet. She’s looking back at the house, and doing the math on how far she can get, if she goes through with it.
I wanted a sense of foreboding. A woman stands atop a hill outside her home. In one hand, she holds what’s left of the last chicken. In the other, a hatchet. She’s looking back at the house, and doing the math on how far she can get, if she goes through with it.