“Mommy?”


Frank died. A bitter cold washed over him. His eyes opened for the first time. “It’s a girl!” someone cried from on-high. Frank heard a high pitched wail. He focused. It stopped. He felt like he was being dragged under a wave as he was passed around the room. He looked up at the faces […]

via What Happened When Frank Died: Episode XIX — Flash 365

Errant Satiety

seeking sublime surrender

HemmingPlay

“The lyfe so short, the craft so long to lerne." --Chaucer

yaskhan

Verba volant, scripta manent !

Upashna

In happiness my words I lack, in grief they overflow.

The Wild Heart of Life

Creative Nonfiction & Poetry

- MIKE STEEDEN -

THE DRIVELLINGS OF TWATTERSLEY FROMAGE

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