the eleventh hour arrives: unceremonious, it is here. fit in all the work that you can, wipe the slate clean (only at sunset). come back tomorrow: work, anew, will be waiting.


ascent (150)

they call morning the worst part of the day. they are the ones who stagger from bed, huddle over flasks of strong dark coffee and shiver in the cool morning air. they are the ones i used to envy, knowing that they complained about the early hour after a full night of sleep while i tossed and turned,… Continue reading ascent (150)


Rain. A reminder of quiet and shyness, halting things off. Faltering confidence, a precursor of what was to come. A promise - or a threat. Underlying suggestion of what might happen next. Coat. Checked, lined inside. Threads loose and frayed around the wrist; elbows starting to (very slightly) wear thin. It hangs dejected over the… Continue reading Symbols