light sparks over the floor, hardwood gleaming golden - ancient wood glows new. walk downstairs, caress the banister, rings scraping along the metal. wear in the building, lovingly restoring it to its future self.
It's another of those Thursdays which feels like Friday, and I've been writing hard. Er, harder than usual. I hammered out 1,000 words for the NaNoWriMo tonight, which isn't a thing I normally manage. I've also managed my time a bit better today so you only get two posts, not the three I did this… Continue reading Letters to Euturpe: 4
once, he asked her what would symbolize her love. she shrugged one shoulder, smiled neat white teeth. they spoke no more of it. (life proceeded just as usual) things changed, unnoticed, until the changes were too deeply embedded. (may as well be carved in stone) and after that she arranged a delivery. (picked at random… Continue reading Poetry 101 Rehab: Flora
i can't love you (you broke something)
i can't love you because i don't know you.
I have a lot of time for Madame Bovary, both character and novel. It's by no means the oldest book in my collection (ahem, Shakespeare; I see you there, Chaucer) or the longest (Tolstoy, Thackeray), but it's one of the first I developed affection for on my own. I could write a thousand words on why I… Continue reading Word Crush Wednesday: Madame Bovary
is this love, this which lingers on and on, or just a lasting daydream?