The Trees Swallow People: Part 10
The invitation to meet Shepard was hidden amongst the clutter of post I had let pile up over the days. It was late August by…
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The invitation to meet Shepard was hidden amongst the clutter of post I had let pile up over the days. It was late August by…
We’re supposedly social animals, cooperative, empathetic. I’m not the most exuberant person, but I like to think I’m agreeable and can hold a conversation. I…
We can never go out the back ever again; there’s a tree trying to get in. I don’t know if it’s the same for everyone…
A Vintage Blog Post About Writing and Attention Spans Now, I’m not a writer for television (though I’m available–call me, really), but I’m an avid…
It was one of the Tuesdays when I would go to the post office down the village when I saw Shepard again. He was standing…
After a few days, they had the pitch taped off. A local club wasn’t impressed. There were other pitches, but GAA lads aren’t known for…
In a public park there are trees that have never harmed anyone, lining the path from the entrance, shaping the jogs and evening strolls people…
Every conversation we have now, my Love, makes me cry, and every single time I come to that old broken home we used to live…
Photo by Greta Hoffman from Pexels Getting off the trolley in downtown Ybor City, Maisie takes a gulp of her water bottle filled with chilled…
Photo by Viktoria Alipatova from Pexels Hearing the bang of the garbage truck emptying a dumpster in the alley behind her apartment, Maisie opens her…
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