Oh writers! We do like to get stuck in our own heads sometimes, don't we?
Did the smell or the sound come first? Metal on metal snapped biting into one another. Hot acrid smoke filled the bus and people were piled on each other in a heap.
Yet, when faced with the opportunity to apply for a writing position, I am quick to discredit myself.
a gentle breeze morphs into a tempest where trees once danced and bowed before a dormant power they dig their roots in deeper anchored—they sway drunk on the wind's power, unable to stand upright a lonely boat rests in the harbour at the complete mercy of a wild master. Wind shows up when and how... Continue Reading →