The forecast is for the hottest day of the year so far. I’m battening down the hatches. Or the Summer equivalent.
The world is too much.
A splurge on the back page Or the back of a dismissive hand
Personal narratives are something we all construct, even if we choose not to share them. We invent them. Weave them. Like making up reasons for what we did after it’s already happened; as if there were some considered rationale or deliberate reasoning before it was done. Which there probably wasn’t. But we can be very […]
Words ramble less widely than thoughts, especially so when thoughts flow in pictures. But they ramble much further than even the wornest of worn hiking boots – before they settle, sometimes restlessly and uneasily, in notebooks and blogs – like this one and countless others.