"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." William Wordsworth
I write about the images and ideas that burn deep within me. I hope whoever reads my work feels happy they did.
Chapter One - An Evening Run
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Staring at them now, it was as though they possessed this land and I was the visitor. I often wonder what happened that day in March, as I traversed the once familiar forest of my childhood. Had I been destined to open the portal or was it simply waiting to be discovered by the first person to stumbled upon the trail? My life was so different then, I mused, only six months ago. Now I was unsure which reality I preferred. As the largest of the four beasts drew its giant head skyward, I tensed, fingers twitching, and followed its gaze.
- Runner-Up in From Across the Room Challenge
It's Just School
It’s just school. This is a letter to all of the young people around me who are still studying. I promise you, your worth is not measured by the grade on that paper. You are not “better” because you were accepted into a post-secondary institution. The prestige of your school and your area of study does not correlate to your earnings, your abilities, or your happiness. I have been told countless times by adults who supposedly knew better than me that education is the key. They are not completely wrong. But, they are only partly right.
Mr. Black's Death Day
Sitting in the centre of the hospital's first floor was neither criminal nor suspicious. If not for the pistol under his jacket, and the target emblazoned on his brain, he might seem like any frequenter of the refuge for the mourning. The cafeteria comprised of jell-o for the future widow, stale coffee for the broken mother, and a hitman for Mr. Black.