I am fond of silence and silence is fond of me. On snowy winter mornings when I write silence clears my worried mind and soothes my restless heart and calms my disposition. Silence is then stilly bliss. On torrid afternoons in summer when I espy through the window shirtless men and girls in shorts bantering, … Continue reading Blissful, Lonely, Noisy Silence
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept All by the name of dogs: the valued file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him closed. Shakespeare … Continue reading The Mongrel Envies the Dalmatian For Possessing Spots
I was eleven when my father was diagnosed with cirrhosis. Mother and I visited him at the hospital a few times. He was scrawny and sad. I pitied him, but I was not too sorrowful. Only frightened. A few weeks later, on a September afternoon, mother picked me up from school. ‘We’ve brought father home … Continue reading When My Father Died I Did Not Cry
boy with a hat 