It Must Be October
On an autumn walk, these wildflowers said, “Hello. We are still beautiful.” I feel old. It must be October. It must be the pumpkin-flavored everything. I am no longer pumpkin-flavored. I am nutmeg....
View ArticleWriters in the Hudson Valley
Another writer and I were walking in search of cappuccino just on the edge of town, when this middle-aged blonde woman walked towards me. She pointed to me and began to sing, “I have always wanted to...
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