Author Archives: Douglas
Two Empty Hands
Morning's moisture skimmed the yesterday-mown grass. Sunlight blazed through that dew in haphazard splotches and streaked over the drier foot path.
A Small Piece
Jacard sat among the small pieces of his life looking at the larger ones. He and they were crusted with grit and soaked in rain.
Not Exactly Tomorrow
When I'm not writing, reading feels like a suitable replacement activity. Consuming a book feels more honorable than consuming a television program despite each having the same tangiable result: me consuming time; producing nothing.
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Stretching the Fingers
My system tells me it's been since April 26th since I wrote. That span of time is both longer and shorter than I'd have thought.
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The Challenge of Love
Unlike some themes I feel I'm not qualified to write, this one feels like a hurdle and not a wall. Maybe Triti should fall in love with Brother Gane? And Brother Gane with You? Hmmm.
My Tattered Hour