What did the black cat know?
Before parting we went down to the docks where we first embraced. Since then, kisses have grown cold. The harbor reeks of spilled oil, and from the estuary a lost […]
Before parting we went down to the docks where we first embraced. Since then, kisses have grown cold. The harbor reeks of spilled oil, and from the estuary a lost […]
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