Letting Life Lead
My skis skid on fresh powder and wind breaks my face. A presence pursues.
“Apparitions collect the unwary,” I had warned. The enthusiast didn’t believe what his camera couldn’t snare.
I chase speed to the bottom. Totem markers constrain Dame’ Wit — sucker of souls.
Mouthless, she demands, “More. Bring.”
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.