Nightfall in the Glade
Legato and Mezzo flew as if their wings were aflame, knocking baskets of gathered berries to the forest floor far below.
I gave some old stories a little love and polish. Find them here. They are my personal favourites.
Legato and Mezzo flew as if their wings were aflame, knocking baskets of gathered berries to the forest floor far below.
Billie winced as she tiptoed across the sun-baked deck with two cold wobbly-pops in hand.
“I would give you the moon, babe.
I closed my book and tossed it aside.
Jack and Jill lay on the hill
Dawn’s dim light glows in the porch windows.
My life will never be the same.
My life will never be the same.
The Cessna’s wings clipped the tops off several jack pine as it thundered through the brush on its way down.
A gust of wind stirred up the dust of the deserted street.
There once was a lady, hailing from the circus
I probably shouldn’t have been drinking last night.