Delicate flakes of ice trickle down from lofty white clouds on a cold November eve. Smells of forgotten memories lift on a light breeze towards your car; pumpkin pie – still warm from baking – rests in your hands…
Delicate flakes of ice trickle down from lofty white clouds on a cold November eve. Smells of forgotten memories lift on a light breeze towards your car; pumpkin pie – still warm from baking – rests in your hands…
Writing about writing
writing and books, stories and words
A Novel of the 9 Realms...Coming Soon!
A little bit of this, a little bit of that
