Mouths open to the sun, they sleep.
It was Wang Lung's marriage day.
While I was still in Amsterdam, I dreamed about my mother for the first time in years.
It was a pleasure to burn.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
At dusk the pour from the sky.
Son, Last Sunday the host of a popular news show ask me what it meant to loose my body.
At dusk they pour from the sky.
This story began, as all writing must, in failure.
Did you wish upon a star and take the time to try to make your wish come true?Did you try to paint the sunrise and find the gift of life within?Did you write a song just for the joy of it?Or write a p...
So, have you split up now?
Seated opposite me in the railway carriage, the elderly lady in the fox-fur shawl was recalling some of the murders that she had committed over the years.
On the heights above the river Xzan, at the site of certain ancient ruins, Iucounu the Laughing Magician had built a manse to his private taste: an eccentric structure of steep gables, balconies, sky-...
Serene was a word you could put to Brooklyn New York. Especially in the summer of 1912. Somber as a word was better. But it did not apply to Williamsburg Brooklyn. Prairie was lovely and Shenandoah ha...
As he dropped the last grisly fragment of the dismembered and mutilated body into the small vat of nitric acid that was to devour every trace of the horrid evidence which might easily send him to the...