The breath of Athenaand the mistake of Prometheus birthed the miracle of movement beneath the vanity of existence.
I love tennis. What I love the most, and what many people may not know about the sport, is just how much of a mental game it is.
A poem
the frayed thread of my reality held my costume together in front of my audience,
Twenty-four years, two devices, zero problems.
I thought I had it sealed and embalmed within my very crust,
Time? Why should I take the time to write a story about time?