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I write when I feel lost, when I am found, when there is nothing else I can do.  There is a voice in my head from time to time that makes...

She began to wake up, one Sunday morning, feeling for him somewhere in their king sized bed.  Her eyes still closed, trying to find the...

Fire. Red. The echoes in my soul have not stopped yet. Ignoring them makes them echo louder. Trying to push them down deeper without...

Like old men they sit. Like old men talking about the weather. Like old men they snack on rye, peanut, but no bridle. Like old men on a...

Our journey as individuals is based on the choices we make along the way. I AM an artist with a big imagination, but my titles and my...