Remember the girl on the wall, the heart in your fist.
Love is like bath bubbles.
Tender moments shine as they float, then pop without warning.
A Bridgeton tale.
…the cyclops makes monsters of us all” Roy Braithwaite (taken from a taped recording made by his Niece Geraldine Braithwaite 1987)
He was literally a polymath. A book and a packet of cigarettes were all that he wanted.
Or, what happens to the woman who loves a king loved by God?
He had stepped back, and then forward, squinting carefully to discern different brushstrokes. By changing his perspective, he hoped to find the trick that revealed each piece’s significance. The inhumanly smooth paint told him nothing.
In London's Highgate Cemetery, a restless spirit guides the reader to a well-visited corner where a troubling secret is revealed
Their comfortable, dispassionate partnership soothed their aching feet and cushioned their joints, ailments that had become emotional side effects of success and that death march to fulfillment.
A Dystopian Tale in Long Island
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