No tygers anymore
It was afterwards we realized that fearful symmetry was not the burning bright of stripes on carnivores, but the echoes dying from a hunter’s rifle in forests of the night. […]
It was afterwards we realized that fearful symmetry was not the burning bright of stripes on carnivores, but the echoes dying from a hunter’s rifle in forests of the night. […]
The old deck had turned grey, polished by weather, sun and wind, but Sven recoiled as it still stung his feet letting off splinters. Coming back he understood they had […]
My first bed was made from wood and Masonite and it was painted blue. I have lucid memories being awake or maybe I should say being awakened, stunned in wonder […]
Erasing self, to keep your social stature is a sacrifice no parent should expect a child to give. … and afterwards… what kind of wild darkness can you pour into […]
Close to winter solstice Night is dressed in worsted wool, wears polished boots, his hands are pale as knives. He smiles in sickles, as he slyly whispers sordid lies and […]
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