a myriad story-telling initiative.
When you reach the end of the tunnel, And the only light that’s shining is way behind you You tend to forget what it was/is/is going to be about
“ There’s a kind of mental freedom and peace that comes only with childhood and youth, the kind you can see in children’s shining eyes
‘ She was sitting on a bus on her way back from work and an old man who was wearing corduroy trousers, a plaid red shirt underneath a grey
As her hair wandered,in dark waves over my pillow, with eyes shut
“Once upon a time”, began the old man, “Long,long ago”, giggled his favorite granddaughter, “In a land far,far away”, her cousin piped in, not wanting to be left out