Day 8 My brain was playing tricks. That was all a dream. He sleeps beside me still. What is an American Sentence?, and this. What is the Positive Prose Project?
Day 4 Deep within her, through the maze beyond the wall inside the cavern, a stone rolled. Hidden beneath, in a small pocket of impossible light, that five year old part of herself crouched. A bright yellow breath of a flower waiting to be discovered and allowed to grow. She knew she [...]
We were the picture of contented love: my hair smelled like a wet dog left standing in a mouldy basement for two days but he cradled me in his arms anyway; the strings from his nose-tampons caressing my ear and his shallow mouth-breathing warm on my neck. With all the ugly going [...]