Pain In The Journey
Blood trickled from under the dirtied rags wrapped tight around his wrists and hands, rolling down to his fingers and jumping to the snow below,
Menu
blog
Writer’s Block Is A Lie
It was junior high art class. Back in 1970-something. The teacher assigned us a still life. I sat there in class, No. 2 pencil in
CONTACT US
Reach Out!
Have questions or comments for me? Or wish to share your
story with me? Great! Share whatever is on your mind in the
nearby form. I will respond within a couple days.
