Hayes Sunset or dawn, being hangs between life and death, begin and end. Waking, a task to complete, primal power surges from source through feet, body, limbs and mind, alight, ablaze, resting nights follow living days.

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