Uh-oh. Getting a feeling of quiet desperation, all hope lost, dreams dissolved in the acid rain of daily living. Can’t share it here, it belongs to someone named Rachel. She’s crossing a field to a river and needs to be alone.
Flash Fiction Fridays
Pages
Tags
- A Death in The Family
- At Swim Two Birds
- Barthes
- BASS
- Black Swan Green
- Blindness
- BLOGGING
- Borges
- Calvino
- Clockwork Orange
- Confrontation
- Consolation of Philosophy
- Cormac McCarthy
- DeLillo
- EDUCATION
- Faulkner
- Flatland
- Geronimo Sandoval
- Glimmer Train
- Henderson The Rain King
- if on a winter's night a traveler
- Ishiguro
- Jamestown
- Kundera
- Life of Pi
- LITERATURE
- Margaret Atwood
- Marquez
- Master and Margarita
- Munro
- Murakami
- Peter Taylor
- Plato
- Ploughshares
- POETRY
- provinces of night
- REALITY
- St. Augustine
- Steinbeck
- Suttree
- The Unbearable Lightness of Being
- Tropic of Cancer
- Updike
- William Gay
- WRITING
-
"I will breakfast from the cupboard where uneaten dreams are kept"
Categories
-
"I foresee the successful future of a very mediocre society."
Archives
EDUCATION
LITERATURE
NEW MEDIA
Wordpress
WRITING
just remind Rachel that there are still some friendly faces, just the other side of the river (after she’s through having her quiet time).
[[hugs]]