Poetry,
comes rolling out of my pursed lips,
like smoke curling under the door.Somebody’s going to get burnt soon.
*If you like this you might want to check out myΒ photostory collectionΒ or myΒ Instagram stream. This appeared earlier on my blog in text.
Bad Houses by Sara Ryan My rating: 3 of 5 stars A mournful story about several defeated folks in a town that’s aptly named ‘Failin’. Cat & Lewis run Matchless Estate Sales, a service that cleans out houses (for people who don’t want to do it themselves) by selling every…
Two things happened last night. The Best Friend and I talked. And in bed with a bad headcold, I reached for one of my comfort reads – Henry Denker’s Kate Kincaid. I’ve had this book for over a decade now and I enjoy it when I pick it up again,…
It is really easy to say, “This is who I am” when a lot of people like who you are. It is not that difficult to say, “This is who I am” when no one likes who you are. What’s really difficult is to say it when the world is…
I’ve loved painting since I was young enough to find joy leaving my fingerprints on walls & my own face. That has not changed. Something about the interplay of colour & the feel of pigment in every form just makes me sit right. I feel like I tap into a…
9:03 a.m. Not a damn auto in sight. And when one turns up, you know itβs going to be a grapple to get him to go to a police station. The furtive look around, the bug-eyed scrutiny as if you might be preparing to report him, for missed red lights,…
Sometimes you look back at a particular time in your life Some key desicion pondered over and taken Some vital thought that changed the course of your life, only you didn’t realise it then Maybe one face appears in your memories of that time And you wonder That undefinable something……
