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We are travelers on one spinning shore, Carved from clay by the same unseen hand. No crown was placed on…
Oh, dinky Mapwing butterfly, Fluttering through the black thorn rose bushes, Your wings tattered and frayed. How beautifully browned dried…
Read Chapter #1: The Man Who Died I sat down in an armchair and felt very sick. That lasted for…
I returned from the City about three o’clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life. I had been…
A man stood upon a railroad bridge in northern Alabama, looking down into the swift water twenty feet below. The…
I remember the days When I was young and full of life, Looking forward to early mornings. I used to…
Mr. Max Madison was sixty-one years old when he had that vicious thought. He wanted to open an account on…
Cold droplets of water fall from my face as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The purple of…