“Hello?”
Hi, is Michelle there? It’s me; I gotta speak with her.
“I’m sorry, that’s not possible.”
Please go get her, tell her it’s me.
I need to hear her laugh.
“I’m sorry, but there’s No Telephone to Heaven.”
What? Why not? There used to be!
“It was deemed way too dangerous.”
A way to exchange
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
DEAD RED FISH - debut novel on Amazon
Wrangling literary arts for writers: words for people!
Santa Cruz Veteran's Poetry Circle
Small Glimpses into Small Lives, based on heart warming attributes.
Mostly unfinished stories primarily produced as a direct result of my association with the OC Writers Guild
The creative writing of Evan Ramos
reading and writing the Rust Belt
poems and ruminations
The name 'Pensieve' is a homonym of 'pensive' meaning deeply, seriously thoughtful; but is also a pun, the 'sieve' part of the word alluding to the object's function of sorting meanings from a mass of thoughts or memories. (Source: Pottermore)
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Short Fiction | Point of View
Investigating the paranormal, dabbling in horror, in a torrid affair with sci-fi, and head over heels for dystopian fiction.
I would agree. Very dangerous. Not to mention all your most interesting departed friends probably wouldn’t be there anyway. Good one!
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Thanks Joe – Glad you liked it.
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There certainly OUGHT to be!
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