Everyone Has A Story To Tell
Some writers will tell you they write because they cannot find the audible words.
He is The mellowness of a Billy Holiday song, Softly playing in a candlelit corridor. Shadowy silence of spaces yet to be explored.
He is my need This man to whom I now belong. He is my master and I am his Willingly, I submit. He is a privileged escape.
Samsonite: The Jaded Baggage of One Stop Dating
The blizzard begins, cold seeps between what was wanted What is needed, and the uncertainty of what is. The hardened decay of a
Faded Songs from Faded Loves
In a world where lovers are all the same. He was different. This lover—had the steady rhythm of a blues guitar and mellowness of a saxophone played by moonlight.
It was the willingness to explore a world Jade had never thought about that had led her here. Divorce had moved her down a path that she had never hoped to travel. After five years of doing the right thing, being a good military spouse and the poster child for being healthy. Jade found herself right back in the same spot that she started—alone and unhappy.
She left men’s houses Like she camped Leaving behind no trace. Taking everything out with her that she brought in.
The Open Door A thousand journeys come together only to be splintered, divided according to geographic location and estimated time of departure. A symphony clicks staccato on reflective marble floor. Flip flops create a bass line to a stiletto heel’s disconnected beat. Tiny voices of crying children become distant background soloists to the deafening sound of ferry arrivals, disembarking vehicles, and the foul language of people made to sit in line far too early in the morning.