not that I've seen her before; I imagine she's wet, amorphous and cold; like an elusive aunt, we hear so much about, she may ultimately disappoint.
Tag: #winter
1999
in the year 1999 when I was still nine years old my father drove our car on the darkest road on this dark road, we came across a brooding monster, a fire breathing troll and he smashed us to pieces and then forced me to wonder if it isn't about good or bad but about being… Continue reading 1999
Autumn
When the sun stops sharing its heat when the clouds stop singing and the trees dancing, will take a knee I shall know that it is time for autumn for winds to grow cold and the trees to grow bald the days shorter and the nights stranger and that autumn I will rid the world… Continue reading Autumn
