Solitude is a double-edged sword.Enough opens portals to imaginings.Too much leads to loneliness and despair.Writers balance on…
Thirteen yearsof living alonekeeps the mindin proximityto the pulseof terror:the beating heartof silence ina Tennessee shack,or a shabby…
Memories ache, same as yesterday.Spring still holds its breath:dirty leaves on dead earth.Walking in hushed darkness.Lonely…
“What is that noise?” The wind under the door. “What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?” “Nothing again nothing.”