#Ideastory: Photographer
Five of us in this photograph, she says,
I wonder where the rest are.
Six, he thinks,
I was behind the camera.
But she’s already looked away.
#ideastory
View on Path
I always imagined writer’s block would be about running out of things to write about. But the ideas are there. They just don’t flow properly? Yeah…you know how it feels like pen and paper or keyboard and screen are one with your body and that the blood in your veins…
You reached out your heart to me. What I found, tied me to you. What we are, is a kite.
Surrender. As I have done.
Jack’s eyes lazily scanned the room, taking in all, accommodating none. Gillian paused mid-speech, in spite of herself and her breath stuck in her throat. Then she caught herself and smoothly moved on, ramming her words into each other to create an artful slip of tongue. The ripple of amusement…
Listen to me put you down.Beg me to make you beg for more.Then call me a bitch for stomping all over your heart. You always get your way.
As I read a story about fairytale characters in New York, my childhood comes back to me. I remember why my fanciful notions were set that way. I’m angry.