I toil in the dreamtime like a night manager in a hotel without walls, catering to clientele – whose needs, so diverse, rattle the rows
Is it just me, or is anyone else feeling low on energy these days? Wishing you all a laid-back Sunday.
Yesterday’s vibrancy now faded markings on boarded up facades I stand on the edge of loss, of ghostly memories and ponder what lies below –
I like a crispy stalk of celery to stir a Caesar’s spice, or a wedge of tart lemon squeezable in tea that is iced and
A rowboat is a useful thing, to get from a to b, but should you dream you are stranded with only one oar, in a
A teacup is a social thing – fits neatly in matching saucer, requires raising of pinky finger, prescribed by social etiquette. Should it break or,