For an instant that felt eternity, nothing happened. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw movement and he recoiled instinctively as desperation clawed at his heart. In the dusky light, he saw the lithe figure of Yasmela advancing toward him, a sword in her hand.
No comments
She had passed away and was lying upon the rocky ground. A thin trickle of blood was streaming from her lips. He held her in a final embrace, nearly denying she was no more. Jolts ran through his shoulders. He moaned and his sobbing voice rose so that it joined the complaining gusts of the wind. Teardrops shed along his cheeks and he realized he was crying.
A powerful reflection on housing insecurity, sudden homelessness, and the emotional toll of losing your home through no fault of your own in a slow system.
- Details
New Year New year—yet nothing is new. Old habits persist, old pains fester, old wounds tear themselves open once more.
- Details
- Parent Category: Writings
- Category: Mental Health
Nightmare Nightmare Was I awake, or still dreaming? The confusion was deeply unsettling. Out of the darkness, a figure took shape, draped in a black cloak—an aquiline face framed by a raven beard and moustache, its eyes glimmering with baleful intent.
- Details