Short Story

Phone rings. I'm busy. Such a nuisance. Two eggs mixed, coffee's on, butter melting in the pan. The grill's warming, two slices of bread, ready to go. A crucial moment. Why does this happen? Waking drowsy is painful. Torn between the desire to flake or rise, you figure , get up now, gain that time…Read more Short Story

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Get Up, Stand Up

“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” ― Anton Chekhov This was the image I captured of the moon over the roof of the old church behind my apartment last night. Apart from the odd dot, a trick of light not an orbiting potato, it looked…Read more Get Up, Stand Up