A Collection of Personal Writing, Photography, and Things I Like
the park. 5:00 p.m.
On Sunday night, as the world resets to face another workweek, you walk through the square.
young love.
It was his dreams that tortured him most: his dreams contained her and so he feared sleep.
note from a wedding.
Our journey is lit like the night sky. Each choice a burning reminder, a bright star seared into our memory canvas. Our journey a constellation, a sparkling picture of our defining moments.
