Letting Life Lead
Empty mugs and cold coffee rings punctuated the tail of twenty years on a Thursday afternoon.
“We’ll talk again soon,” he said.
She muttered, “What for?”
He kissed her temple, grabbed the duffel, and crossed the threshold. Later, she spied the pristine, rectangle patch where the family portrait had hung.
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.