Bob O’Marley’s

Writing came easy. Before the deal. When it was just me nothing had to be perfect. Now it haunts me to the letter. I write handcuffed, knowing a deadline lurks. Editors loom. My family persists. So I’m left with nothing. I close my laptop. This isn’t working. My little office. My old town. What was I thinking? That... Continue Reading →

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑