Mud under shoes
Ami-Rose Bell, sleepless, high on whatever, sat at the formica table, doodling in the pallid grease film their bender had left. Chuck left at dawn, going back to his wife. […]
Ami-Rose Bell, sleepless, high on whatever, sat at the formica table, doodling in the pallid grease film their bender had left. Chuck left at dawn, going back to his wife. […]
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