Calling #writephoto #Writerswednesday

Thursday photo prompt   Through the snow, through the pixelated mist of our lives, I see him. Writing about him - only the antlers prevent me to say "her" - is another story: precisely. Inspiration is like this vision, looking back at us, shrouded in doubt, shying away from the obvious, a myth. The stag … Continue reading Calling #writephoto #Writerswednesday

#FWF Free Write Friday: Quote Prompt

“We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.” — Louise Erdrich, Tracks Out of the mist they march Cloaked in white, invisible, An army of wraiths, frightening the crows, Away from the living, they march towards Hell On their way destroying all evils...   Image: Mieczysław Jakimowicz, Foreboding, 1907, via