storyteller

The Strangler In The Wild

“…wrapping about her skin like the vines of the strangler fig on these hapless trees, like his insatiable hands and arms, like his greedy western thoughts…”

The Strangler In The Wild

The Drafty Photograph

“…That firecracker of a child came to me in the time of red pistachio leaves. She loved reaching this part of the book…”

The Drafty Photograph

A Still World

"...and yet with every desire to disturb the vast slate of lake- wide, eternal, and perfect before her. It could be the envy of ice..."

A Still World

Winter

"She sees him bow his smiling craggy face down so his lobe meets her lips. The way he does this- one would think he is smaller than her..."

Winter

The Oldest Mountain

"And there she is again. All around him. Lifting him towards the clouds. Up towards the moon. There comes her imploring howl,"Almost there. Don’t give up..."

The Oldest Mountain

A Quiet Sadness

As the years stacked upon one another they traded every kind of laugh- from giggles to raucous ha-ha's over how she had to keep shushing him that day...

A Quiet Sadness

The Scent Of Red

"She can't see the pigeons anymore. But she hears them take to the sky in bursts. The sunlight breathes on her knitted skin. She can't see the tower anymore..."

The Scent Of Red

The Storm and the Question

"The louder the rain came, the softer the message and yet it was all she could hear. And with thirsty ears she drank it's faint words..."

The Storm and the Question

From Widow to Bride

"For a Widow-Turned-Bride quite often needs that last moment to say goodbye to her previous chapter and hello to the next one; yea, and to breathe..."

From Widow to Bride