The Funnel
I sunk a borehole deep into the city. A rolled-up wedge of cardboard inserted in the ear. A face appears at the window, needing something from the morning, conversation maybe
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- 878 reads
Conversations at Woos
Gabriel sat comfortably on the couch, his face turned as red as an uncooked steak. Cindy sat down across from him. "Henry is a bit late tonite."
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- 1190 reads
Meaningless, Reality
Whether I do one thing or another thing, things remain the same. It occurs to me that if I die, someone else like me will arise.
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- 1088 reads
Another Chance
Will he ever see me? Will he ever know I exist, still?
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- 635 reads
Blessed Be Mary
A Personal reflection about the role of the Blessed Virgin Mary and her image in the world .
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- 1493 reads
Unfinished Journey
37 years ago, on the 22nd february 1972. I lost my mum she was only 57 years old, but still a child at heart. I miss her every day.
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- 1285 reads
Notes from the Gesellschaft (1)
The Gesellschaft.
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- 534 reads