The stillness of morning Coffee shops on rainy days Autumn’s unexpected kiss Long drives, no timeline Toss me the keys. Say, “Baby. Take the wheel. Turn the radio, up.” Farmer’s Markets and flowers Wind and waves And you. Without hesitation, I’d choose you.
Let’s go Smelling of campfires and salt air Where the beaches are littered With empty bottles of Casa Sauvignon Blanc Let us recite from worn books On a bench of driftwood Follow children to the sea Dip our toes into water Speak wild songs Say anything or nothing Blink at the sun Feed seagulls Toss stones Fall into silence Lean into doorways Wander curio … Read More
Roy fumbled with the coins in his pocket. A single incandescent bulb lit up each table- top. The heat in the room glowed and a smoky haze veiled the guests. He peered deeper into the shrouded depths of the room. Paper serviettes stacked the bar. Shot glasses lined up, topped to the max, the amber liquid ready to swallow. Next to an ice bucket, a … Read More The Clean-Up Man
What a damn, good night of gentlemen, whiskey shooters, and women wrapped in mink, it was. The boys dressed to the nines and the ladies, bespoke in jewels, were there to shine. The flowery scent of Chanel No.5 still lingered on his shirt. His mother had once denounced it as the “perfume of show girls.” He knew exactly how she’d feel about the scene. “Cards, … Read More The Club
It is six a.m.; the quietest time of day It’s when I think of you The light is softer Cinematic and still, encouraging and lovely Coaxing me to chase memories I spent all these years waiting for a hero And even in the most difficult chapters of my life, I believed Someone else should hold the power It is six a.m.; … Read More A Revelation
As they headed toward the exit, Birdie * appeared. She leaned in, pressed her warm, sequined body against his hip. Whiskey sloshed as the ice in her glass glittered like diamonds. Her other hand pressed his shoulder. Words slipped from her lips, “I’ll talk to my mister.” She kissed his jaw. “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered, before disappearing back into the smoky room. ~ … Read More The Clean Up Man
Pay attention, darling. Pause in the slightest movements of the universe, the subtle nuances, the unexplained happenings that you call, “lose threads.” Like a ball of tangled yarn, these very moments twist and turn, specific to you, alone. Pay attention, darling. Stand brave and alone at the crossroad of life. Stay unflinching on the page. Allow the truth of time to heal you. When … Read More Wonder
The value isn’t in the object. It is in the human story attached to it. The worn chair, the chipped saucer, a silver fork, her oil painting, a skeleton key, a one-eyed bear, a favourite find, a worn photograph. The memory is tactile, visual, and fraught with emotion. Love. This is the currency to value. ~ Ikea.com Tillago 20 piece flatware