Browsing Category: Short Story

               In middle February, warm front arrived and amidst they lived a Lover’s Spring—too soon, premature by world and ration’s measure but by trust, belief, and will of the spirit becomes, as experience, all the same.                Limbs of the trees stayed barren, swells of dormant buds small and closed and saved; but there was […]

               In read of the poem, he thought of her in youth and read and way of share in years before. *****                Candle light on wooden tray, long stemmed glass of wine, deep of red, beside; its taste to her tongue, dry and its linger, as warmth-take of the drink eased and opened mind […]

               Some days, what she needed most was a feel—a something more than bland malaise of passive living through a day.                Last January sky rose to stay of gray from day before, cool but not cold, damp without rain or snow’s fall, it was a dreariness that made the cool seem colder than it […]

               Sky remained in its overcast and his melancholy returned.  He told himself he didn’t know why, but maybe he lied.  It was a sadness of doubt, a questioning of hope, when one believes, then fears—perhaps I’m wrong.  To give in hope and act in faith—to share and make one’s art—these are what one controls.  […]

               Sky was gray and a soft mist fell, world warmed and changing light-dream snow to despond of mist that rose at times to drizzle.                Inside, at island, he looked to book beside.  It had a cover of bright and bursting colors.  He read the title, and then small sub beneath, Big Magic: Creative […]

               “…the older I get, the less impressed I become with originality.  These days, I’m far more moved by authenticity.  Attempts at originality can often feel forced and precious, but authenticity has quiet resonance that never fails to stir me.                            Just say what you want to say, then, and say it with all your […]