“Again,” he said. He smacked his lips, and I could feel his rancid breath on my ear.
I swallowed and sang, “Oh, Danny Boy. The pipes…”
Tears slid down his face, but his knife held steady at my throat.
Until the end…
Decades of her words.
Unfolding From the Fog (or What I Think About When I Walk My Dog)
Try. Try again.
"Not all those who wander are lost." - J. R. R. Tolkien
Short stories and general observations about the world of writing.
Crochet inspiration and design from Sweden
A collection of stories & poems
Creative crochet designs with a touch of pink!