Was it her chestnut hair or the moon’s rays that leapt off in highlights after downpours in life’s gray rain? Was it the glitter drawn…
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Was it her chestnut hair or the moon’s rays that leapt off in highlights after downpours in life’s gray rain? Was it the glitter drawn…
Sound has an uncanny way to take us back in time. I once had the good fortune to spend time on an isolated island off…
In South Dakota you can drive in nearly a straight line across I-90 for ten hours enveloped in standing corn and well kept farms yielding,…
As a kid I lived for a time in my grandparent’s house, an old Victorian, across the street from the Blue Moon Bar, smack in…
My Dad was born of immigrants, 1921, in Attleboro, Massachusetts. As a kid he lived in New York, during the depression, working on a bakery…
I just submitted Sundering of the Species–Conserving Humanity at the Dawn of Posthuman Technology–, to my publisher, Palgrave Macmillan, 400 pp. The challenge I set…