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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021
Submitted to Contest #75
High weaving heather, thrown this way and that on each whim of the high weaving winds. Bright sunshine clowns tumble my stomach – tighten; slacken; contort. Piercing chills prickle my skin, skimming jaggedly in my flowing blood tubules. Warm breezes freshen my brow lines, lift the left and the right of my lips up into moon dimples. How I melt into nature’s forces as I sit. Of course I’m early. Usually I’m late. But this day and time, I’m so very early. Yet I’m forty years late. Carmen – she’s always been Carmen in my head. I’m no romanti...
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