Storygram #180
It was one of those mornings. The world was frozen at a standstill, where even the air itself didn’t dare to move. Not a single bird or forest critter stirred, and a thick fog rolled over on the land in its slumber. Total stillness.
Storygram #133
He had been raking for an hour, making mound after mound, but his grandson’s jumping enthusiasm seemed to only be increasing. Watching the child play kindled a long forgotten memory that he had abandoned decades ago—youth.
Storygram #94
In the woods he could be a king, ordering his knights to cut down the rabble that spoke ill of his young reign. He could be a soldier, like his father, fighting for the freedom of his fellow countrymen, hiding in trenches and spying on the enemy.
Storygram #92
The trades are never avoidable. We can dodge them. We can narrowly escape their grasp, but they always catch up to us at some point. It begins with one slip up.
Storygram #88
This is where it happened. Seeing the very same spot again for the first time in 40 years was more overwhelming than she could have imagined. The memories rolled in like a tsunami.