it swells it builds glows gleams thrills soothes fills then it drains water through a leaky pipe you can’t patch the hole so gradually it dims fades seeps flees escapes you are cold now it would never sell you can never tell how it felt words aren’t deft in fact… Continue reading Day 122: Words
It seems so odd- little dots of ink, pressed onto a page or generated on a screen, in pixels- they’re captivating. My eyes rush across them as an alcoholic drains a bottle, but the only opiate here is meaning, and the only drug is knowledge. Or stories. The words claw at me with serif… Continue reading Day 66: Addict
“Momma, momma, tell us a story!” Their eager facers peered up at her; Celine couldn’t resist. She loved stories, and she wanted her children to love them too, but now they were constantly demanding new ones, and stretching her patience. Their eyes were so wide, so excited, so innocent, that Celine felt herself melt, shoulders… Continue reading Day 63: A Story
She likes that feeling she gets when the world- or just someone- stops and listens. Like her voice matters, like she’s said something important, like somebody cares. Maybe words are simply changes in air pressure, but knowing someone has heard them has a weight- a reassurance, an affirmation of existence.