Saturday, February 11, 2012

are we there yet?

Not writing, for me, is like standing still while the whole world is moving. The truth is, i am constantly creating. picking out lines. hunting for words in poignant moments. anticipating words to obliterate my concious. These days i spend my time between gadgets, in the limbo of work, in coffee shops, imagining conversations, haunted by muses and demons--redundant ghouls.

My life in flash fiction: Waiting. waiting. Are we there yet?

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