May 23, 2017

23.05.2017 9:26

Behind red curtains She cracked open her eyelids, lifting her chin slightly. There was too much light but she did not draw the blinds. The lazy pleasures of the night were now gone, they had not even lingered long enough to greet Morpheus. In their wake were a stinging bitterness on the tongue and an […]

01.02.2014 05:27

Somewhere She understood that what pleased her in the written word was the unoriginal fact of fiction. It was the bringing to life of characters, places, happenings, the drawing of inspiration in the real, the surreal, the breath, the heartbeat, in the imagined, the dreamed, the imaginary. It was the game of all that was […]


31.08.2013 7:38

The Writer It is Saturday morning. Everything is still. The birds sit still and sing-song softly in the trees across the lawn. The wind whispers a worn, whistled tune. I have come to know and love this melody. It comforts me in the morning. I open my eyes and see the white waste of the […]