A Season That Asks for Nothing
As I chastise myself over all the shoulds and musts, autumn keeps whispering: “Remove the pressure.” It is my favourite season, this gentle turning of the year....
Tag: micro prose
It Was Summer
It was summer when a nameless writer finally packed her tools away. At last, the character she’d been writing for was content. With countless years spent workin...
Home Is a Moving Thing
I was told to write about my preoccupation. For once, I don’t want to resist, edit my emotions, or ruminate endlessly about the state of the world. ‘Cause there...