Daily Archives: January 8, 2017

Hope is around the corner – Michelle Lunato #writephoto

For months she had been hiding things. I few dollars here. An old, but valuable ring there. Little things that he would not notice. Insignificant things that would not warn him about her eventual escape. Some may call her hiding of things theft, … Continue reading

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Journal of the Far Side – 4: The 1954 Coffee Bar – Steve Tanham

The pictures on the wall tell the story – they’re an homage to how the world was in 1954, the year that Pellegrini came to Melbourne and established his iconic coffee bar. It was also the year I was born, … Continue reading

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Originally posted on – MIKE STEEDEN –:
beneath a narcissistic blue moon a race empty of allusive ingenuity yet, by dint of narrated tradition perhaps only the wary Babylonians could likely fathom an explanation unravel the superfluous answer solve the…

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Gold – The Story Files #writephoto

It was some stupid time in the morning. That moment between night and day. We were parked on the roadside in the middle of nowhere where we had been all night. Some strange noise broke through my sleep and I … Continue reading

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A work of art

In spite of repeated requests from my nearest and dearest, I had been singing again as I made the coffee. Music has always been part of my life, even though, in spite of writing a number of songs, I can … Continue reading

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What time of the day is it?? – Reena #writephoto

If the sky is still blue, where does this golden light emanate from? Where does this doorway lead to? Is somebody trying to confine the sun, but is unable to contain its brilliance? The Sun emits signals of its existence, … Continue reading

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The space between the words

I love my bedroom. It is nothing special. The decor is plain and simple and the room holds far more book-space than clothes storage. I sleep, read and dress in there and, more importantly, the dog does nothing in there … Continue reading

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Gold-en-Brow- Stuart France #writephoto

* Ish-na-e-cha-ge, First-Born-Being, roamed among the Animal-Nations. He understood their ways and their languages. They beheld him in wonder and awe and could do nothing without his knowledge. He pitched his tent in the centre of the land and no … Continue reading

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Wasteland #midnighthaiku

“…And slaughter might very well explain it looking at Wen’s features… which I do not really want to right now because of the very obvious pain…‘They burned it themselves,’ she says kicking the vitrified rock and then continues her circuit. … Continue reading

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