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This would be the place then. Jadda squinted against the heavy hand of the sun. Up on the hillock there were a couple of great stones, man-high...

At our Spring Run Golf complex, in southwest Florida, we have a wonderful forum for discussion. Every weekday, at 9 A.M., several individuals gather...

I used to write letters with a Parker pen.

So much breathing space as strong winds pierce miles of untamed vacant high ground, relentlessly absorbing each battering constructed by nature. Now...

Well, I did. Picture Author's own. Of the day when I thought it really was over. L to R : Me, Anatolij Kvotchur Russian Test Pilot, American pilot of B2 Stealth bomber at an Airshow in 1993. I was Kvotchur's interpreter.

A small poem about how tiring resistance can be.

Partly due to the situation in the real World and partly because I'm thinking about a story fast forwarding a few generations, I'm winding this up earlier than I intended. I hope these final parts will clarify things. Good luck everybody. Image: Future by ideal-ist.eu

I think the moon would be too close. He might just find a way back from there, or build up his reserves and forces again for another invasion of...