Inner musings of a Wayward Writer
I truly loved with all my heart but once. I believe that’s the only way we can ever be sure we have actually experienced love, when we feel something so strong, so over-powering, that it lingers across our entire lives. And when we look back, no matter how happy we are now, we only wonder …
Dear son, The wind still plays that same old note as it travels down from the mountains and sweeps over the hills. It rushes into the glen where I can hear it whistle in our roof. The walls creak from the strain of its force and the glass rattles in the window frame. One night …
She landed on the daisy as daintily as she could, spreading her wings to keep her balance. The wind was blowing in gusts, which made landing a difficult process, but once her feet had taken hold of the silver petals, she knew she was safely home. Her wings were faded when compared with the others …
He wasn’t meant to be there. And he knew it. The fence was made of brick put together so smoothly that it was impossible to climb. It rose several metres into the air and encircled the entire property. While there were several signs posted around the perimeter warning against trespassing, he hadn’t found a single …
The electric screen reflects in her eyes and douses her face in a bright blue light. Her skin isn’t quite as smooth as it once was. Even her thick chestnut locks are starting to turn thin and grey, changing rapidly, if there was anyone there to witness the transformation…
Once upon a time there lived a wise old king who loved his kingdom. He loved every leaf upon every tree and every drop of dew which glistened with the dawn. And his people loved him too, for he was a fair and kind ruler, who held his people reverently in his heart. One night …
I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you in so long. I haven’t dropped by to share any thoughts, or words, or stories. But things have been a little tough. I’m writing a book, a novel, something which has been a decade in the making. I think you’ll like it. I hope you do. After …
Mercury waves rise into sharp peaks before crashing down with a roar. The wind screams like a banshee. His boat is flung one way, and then another, completely at the mercy of a foul-tempered sea. He hangs onto the side of the boat, his knuckles white. Every muscle strains against the violence. The salty spray …
