“Restaurants will break your heart” is something that I often hear myself saying. It has become a mantra. When did I start saying it, I wonder. Maybe it was when I first discovered the criss-crossed ...

mop in Slam sweeping across the floor.

Have all been fought and won. In a very short time, now. This war will be done. So I order my men. Children, actually, and far from home. To fight and die for nothing. We don't want no more of your ...

Remember where I came from. Think of a continent of sabled czars. Leave your home. Let exile fill your mouth like the lost language of the child. Understand the reason. A man who would not wear the ...

"Come with me, and I will show you a beautiful bed. " And St. Francis led her to a large fire.

Wrought on you by surprise.

To make sure of nothing in particular, A prosody of focus going wide. That’s not till April 3rd (I found him).