The Murder of Day

With head heavy, eyelids heavier, hand tightly gripping the handle of a pint mug of tea, by now half empty and barely warmer than its surroundings, I sit quietly in a daze, resisting with all my strength the urge to doze off, listening intently to the silence of the room around me, and the whispers... Continue Reading →

Weather Patterns in a Tea Cup

This could be anywhere from reading the future, to taking a Rorschach test … or maybe I'm actually reading that my future has a Rorschach test in it for me? For the record, that's Earl Grey brewed on lukewarm water from the office coffee machine to become a substance that is almost, but not quite,... Continue Reading →

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