I Simply Love Writing Good Stories, That's

I've Heard It Said That Children Born To Stressful Times Never Shake The Air Of Woe . . . .

Children Don’t Require Of Their Parents A Past And They Find Something Faintly Unbelievable, Almost Embarrassing, In Parental Claims To A Prior Existence.

In Each Man's Heart There Lies A Hole. A Dark Abyss Of Need, The Filling Of Which Takes Precedence Over All Else.

I Write What I'd Like To Read And Just Hope That, Along The Way, Others Might Like To Read Them, Too.

Cassandra Wondered At The Mind's Cruel Ability To Toss Up Flecks Of The Past. Why, As She Neared Her Life's End, Her Grandmother's Head Should Ring With The Voices Of People Long Since Gone. Was It Always This Way? Did Those With Passage Booked On Death's Silent Ship Always Scan The Dock For Faces Of The Long-departed?