journal – Postcards From Myself

Postcard #30: Southern Bells of Charleston

We are back on the street, our bellies full, our minds temporarily satiated; although we are lost in our own worlds, ensnared in a web of our own thoughts. We walk silently, me, myself, and the beautiful young woman who refuses to leave our side. I am glad for her company, if only because sheContinue reading “Postcard #30: Southern Bells of Charleston”

Blank Postcard #14

I sit at the table, staring blankly at the glass of water while my finger spun the straw, making circles ripple and swirl, a miniature whirlpool trapped. Voices buzz around me, but I do not hear them. My dreams ripple and swirl, ripple and swirl, a colorful whirlpool matching the one in front of me.Continue reading “Blank Postcard #14”