I turned away
I went across the landingto the court reporter’s deskthe room was darker than ever,her arms were bruised there alone near the back she had a small throat as if she didn’t mindfinger marks […]
I went across the landingto the court reporter’s deskthe room was darker than ever,her arms were bruised there alone near the back she had a small throat as if she didn’t mindfinger marks […]
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