Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash
I ruffled feathers. Scrape the barrel of passion. The sun will rise, dear.
About the Creator
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More stories from Karl McBeath and writers in Poets and other communities.
Babbling Dixie
The short form of tomorrow is never the whole story. Abbreviations mean nothing when we are born to die and we all are aren't we? Being spoken for before birth is something we're not supposed to remember like some kind of karma after effect. Still here we are spending our lives looking for each other.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle2 days ago in Fiction
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