No trace remains of that day of clay and crayons of chalk and chewing gum, of sweaty palms and swollen self-consciousness No trace except for two dry red prints set on stark white parchment, silently declaring an intention to witness, and better still, to be witnessed Stashed away beneath bobbins and musty magazines, ten delicate… Continue reading Digits
Category: identity
Communion with Babcia
A little piece about how guardian angels are made.
Just Me
Wise (and concise) thoughts from Danny, January 11, 1980...
Fifty
How it feels to be 50, based on six months of experience, December 2017...
