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The Road Hog By Paul McCann I pulled over there on the side of the road with an overheated engine . I had no idea of my whereabouts as I had been...

Back to life. Back to reality. Back to writing exactly one hundred words per day.

She decided, the moment the alarm went off, that today would be different. Not different in the way she sometimes meant - the vague, hungover “I’ll...

A mollitious warmth stole through my inward parts this evening as I directed a river of red Italian wine down my throat. Although it was an...

… takes away the sin of the world. [Continuing the hymn-for-Sundays series] They went to Pilate’s palace with hazy accusation. It was the date to celebrate God’s rescue of the nation. … their trial of this man unjustly held – Christ Jesus, predicted Passover Lamb …

An Artistic Expression by Paul McCann The depiction of still life there in a art form for all to share , some fruit on a silver platter whatever the...

He does not like artificial light. Prefers natural darkness. Sunlight seeps in like an apology for a shy illumination of his room. She likes it this...

1/5/25 Easter came in even more haste than usual, it seemed to Alfred, who liked, in recent years, to write something appropriate to this time of...

get dressed, sit on the bed, no sign of ginny, long smoke break glad that she’s here, despite her toddler style whining she knew I shouldn’t be alone...