short stories
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The Life of the Little Brook
After days of heavy rain the little brook had become dimmed and occluded by a great muddy morass. But now the muffled wind with its waft brought the sound of a slow trickle, having found a heavy boulder it made its first song.
a winter’s tale
As I walked along through the twilight with my breath condensing into clouds in the wintery air, the ground glistening beneath my feet and the trees coated with frost, the transparent icicles of winter hanging from their boughs and softly crackling in the breeze, my thoughts once again turned to my beloved Rocky.