Letting Life Lead
Every morning for a month the rat-a-tat jazzy beat of the resident woodpecker thrumming my house rips me from dreams. I bolt a feline stairway to heaven to the side of the house. Empty feathers and a fat cat trouble me not.
The Literary (or Junk) Writings of Leslie Muzingo
Poetry, History, Mythology
Confessions of a White Trash Hoe
Learn to Live
Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry Journal
TinyPurpleMe: Part Two
Illustrated Short Stories
Essays and reviews on narrative in games and new media
My reflections of life in general.