Blog

Writing from the spaces between lives.

the choice

The Choice

…and on my way to the old city, I came across a peasant who was standing right at the edge of a cliff, his shoulders hanging heavily at his sides and his gaze lost in the…

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The Wish

The Wish

I was awakened by the sound of a young man crying by the ocean. He stood at the shore with a bag in each hand, his weeping louder than the crashing waves, his body bent beneath…

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