The door opens to a world pale with fog. One must be careful in the fog. It is far too easy to step through and find oneself in foreign lands. An autumn morning, like this one, is thin.She walks into the mist, the door closing softly behind.There is a journey to be had today. Early morning is fai . . . (More)

The highest room in the tower is a bedroom. Feminine, but not childish. A cream colored canopy bed dominates the room, and most of the other furnishings match. Even the floor -- wood, worn smooth with years -- has been washed with it. Color peeks from a braided rug, and the jewe . . . (More)

I feel vibrant. Clear. Vibrating with life.Ideas flying through my head like dragonflies. Zipping. Zooming. Floating. So close I could touch them, but oh! Pinning down something so beautiful seems a waste. No diorama under glass could capture the other-worldly way they move.I'm coming out from the t . . . (More)

I don't remember when I wrote it. I do know that the last time it was posted here was October of 2005. Just before our first wedding anniversary. Now I have scars healing to match the words. Funny that it took that time apart to bring us to where I always dreamed we could be. This is a sligh . . . (More)