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Cells of memory and corridors of guards . . . I turned over on the cot worrying about my escape. Snores and mumbled dreams, boots on overhead grates . . . I went over the plan again, each step, fixing every tangible detail in mind. I began to sweat when, at last, a warm…
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9354
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On the ridge, above the arroyo in darkening daylight, stood three figures. Ancients, cold and watching, like standing stone, silhouettes, their depth of blackness punching through the cooling burnt-orange sunset. Their inexplicable presence puncturing…
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3511
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Stories bring people together. It is common knowledge but the impact of realizing this in a very personal sense is still immense. The truth of it goes all the way back to days when we gathered around campfires to hold back the night in the company of people feeling somehow…
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105621
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poon fred / loop ilo/ bussy yubb tree
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