Mathilda’s flight – for Friday Fictioneers.
When Mathilda closed her eyes she still saw the muzzles of Kalashnikovs, held by trigger happy boys drugged to do the wet jobs for ruthless war-lords. Her soul bore the […]
When Mathilda closed her eyes she still saw the muzzles of Kalashnikovs, held by trigger happy boys drugged to do the wet jobs for ruthless war-lords. Her soul bore the […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis