Like Moving an ocean by Fabrice Poussin
He has written words on the winds of chance drew symbols of a future that would never be on the
A Magazine Of Fiction And Poetry
He has written words on the winds of chance drew symbols of a future that would never be on the
If it’s beauty I seek, I must search with my heart, When aware–, it erases my frown. To the one
Continue readingIn The Eye Of The Beholder by Annemarie Timmons
Requesting download from “gray matter”, Pencil waiting – to report. Revelations bid attention, Writing is my favored sport.
Every soul needs to be cherished, yearning for some loving praise. Like a blossom needing sunshine, bending towards warming rays.
‘Hello, Mum’ he called on his way downstairs There was no reply. There rarely was. Nor was she in the
I’ve spent ages visualising a millionaire lifestyle. I’ve always thought about having lots of servants, property and land. I’m never
“I’m sorry, Plank,” Henri Flambé said, glancing over my resume for about the fourth time. “While your background is
When I was a kid, I would sleepwalk. I remember having a recurring dream. Today, it seems to be such
Sand makes stone, Makes concrete, makes Glass, makes a world, An anthill, short & Intense with Homeless buildings, Simple &
you know, I once reckoned it was love. * on that auspicious day, when the lunar moon appeared * with