Mother always told him that God created this Earth and his father wore that beauty down daily in his pick-up truck.

when I started this I had some thought of placing it in the ‘humour’ section, but while writing the situation has so deteriorated that sadness and concern have eclipsed any original wry humour.

around her hair she ties a purple ribbon she ties her hair with a purple ribbon in the merry month of may and if you ask her why the hell she wears it

Tell me, am I insane? Is it thoughts of you, drive me insane?

Love you. How the mighty words do but fall. And still falling we bleed and say them still. These words in which we are immured, we call Ourselves forth to bask in, blinding us ill.

A camping trip to the Scottish highlands turns nasty for an unhappily married couple.

Beauty so deep affects the deep heart’s core, O’ City, City, how I will miss thee, An image deep in my mind to be bore. Streets that cast serenity within me,

I sat on the edge of her bed, and it was so soft it was like trying to get comfortable on a massive, clinically white marshmallow.