The Hunter’s Tale

"In Larissa's bed, who is the hunter and who the prey?"

It was mid October. Across the bristling hillside the cedar and silver birch trees were slowly swallowing the withered sun. Soon the night would reclaim them. And soon, thought Larissa as she felt the evening frost sting her fingers, soon...

Making Sense

"Does love have a meaning?"

If ever love has sought a meaning,the simple case for love is this:your brown eyes in the half-light grinningas, stirred from sleep, we bend to kiss.Drowsily we drift together and, seeking sense in love’s commands,write our truths upon each otherin...