Only after he died did I find the mask. The cracked, clay façade my father put on every day. Put on to appease the world. To earn their mercy. Their bigoted praise. But how broken he was underneath. Weeping to be loved, given justice for who he had always been.

Dorian J. Sinnott is a graduate of Emerson College’s Writing, Literature, and Publishing program, currently living in New York with his two cats. He is a proud member of the Horror Writers Association and Horror Authors Guild. Dorian’s work has appeared in over 200 literary magazines and journals around the world and has been nominated for the Best of the Net and Eric Hoffer Book Award.