Today, I experienced one of those surreal moments where time seems to stand still for just a little while, and everything inside you pays attention. I saw a grizzled, old man. Spine curved with age, he shuffled, unhurried, enjoying the early evening sun on his face. As my gaze started to drift away, I noticed... Continue Reading →
With every word that I write, I remove another layer of skin. One day, I shall find myself again. —Raw.
Flora was a busybody. Nobody at the Garden Club could stand her. Nothing was ever to her standard. Frank had had enough of her griping about his fuchsias. Weeks after she disappeared, even the police were impressed with how they bloomed. 'Aye,' he said, 'new bonemeal.'.