Tenth of December: Stories

dour

Based on my experience of life, which I have not exactly hit out of the park, I tend to agree with that thing about, If it’s not broke, don’t fix it. And would go even further, to: Even if it is broke, leave it alone, you’ll probably make it worse.

is born of man and woman. Every human, at birth, is,

verboten

It had once been a mill town. Wasn’t that crazy? What did that even mean?

I was sensing the eternal in the ephemeral.

acquiescence.

Family life of our time sometimes seems like game of Whac-a-Mole, future reader. Future generations still have? Plastic mole emerges, you whack with hammer, he dies, falls, another emerges, you whack, kill? Perhaps may seem like strange/violent game to you, future reader? Who no longer even need to eat to live? Just levitate all day, smiling warmly

Sometimes, feeling happy like this, she imagined a baby deer trembling in the woods.