Time stops in the faint glow of a headlight pool on a darkened back highway. Thoughts separated blur together into one as the white lines become a vanishing smudge. A…
It was colder than calculated and the crosswind cut like hell, but the cold air felt like catching my breath. We’re in a drought again, the air holds it, dry…
“I don’t know if the blog is turning out the way I want. It’s missing something.” “You sound like my hubs. What it must be like to be an artist.…
Dharma Anchor 