Pedro’s addiction – For Friday Fictioneers
Pedro was just born in the body of a man. At his father’s wish he labored at the farm. He hated growing muscles, He hated bristles on his chin. He […]
Pedro was just born in the body of a man. At his father’s wish he labored at the farm. He hated growing muscles, He hated bristles on his chin. He […]
echoes of the past resound into the present a dream of the sea (Off The Tippet) undulating purple waves dissipate reality (Björn) Many apologies for not visiting back. […]
I sculpted a little sonnet from a picture I took the other day. Played around and used purple bloom as a kind of refrain, I updated the end a little… […]
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