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THE RHYTHM OF THE SOUTH
Humid wind clings to me like an old song, a tune I’ve heard before. Memories gallop across the azaleas and dance between you...
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THE CHILD WITHIN It was in the moonlight that I saw him, a man younger than my father, sent on laughter brought by the sight... -
Every summer, I slid side to side as Dad swerved around each switchback, the red and black vinyl seats sticking to my bare legs. Wind whip... -
I’m starting to learn that reality is a fickle thing. The truth can be distorted, stretched into new dimensions and not many can see it fo...
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