Abstraction

Keys turned in the lock. He walked in, and shed his coat and jacket in the lobby. Then he eyed his flat. Soulless, nude space, open lines, cold, empty walls, uplifted only by the view, and the grey light filtering through the high windows.

Masked

Trapped, hands tied, mouth taped, Slowly I grasp consciousness I open my eyes, Discover a den – Earthen ground, soiled sheets undone On a dirty bed.

A Winter’s Night

Winter cold biting At my lips – prickling skin sends Shivers down my spine On and on I walk Numbed – I let frozen air in Filling up my lungs

Mistiness

Vapors emanate – Hot, white, smokey clouds of hope Warming up my lips.

Doctor, Where Is the Doctor?

As the Tardis lands On foreign soil, it watches. Frozen Eye stays still.

On Hold

As life bustles by Under the clearest skies, Frozen I sits still.

Wilderness

Ethereal scene Unsullied grounds – shrinking – yet Ever-growing soul

The Writer Behind The Blog

Hey everyone, I read on a post of one of the writers I avidly follow that passers-by feel more inclined to read your stories, when they see the face of the person who wrote them, along with a thing or two about them. So my lovely readers, here is a post about the woman behind the blog.