
Grandmother sat at a chair beside the window. A snow fell, the first of the season. She enjoyed snowflakes highlighted by the twilight. Her mind drifted to capturing one before
Grandmother sat at a chair beside the window. A snow fell, the first of the season. She enjoyed snowflakes highlighted by the twilight. Her mind drifted to capturing one before
COVID19 has spawned personal passions in everyone, it seems. Writing a book is no longer niche’. People have time now when no time was an excuse. More people writing means
I remember sitting at my desk, staring at words on the page. Some of the words made sense, others were alphabet soup. My mind was confused, tired, and drained.However, I