Passing Thoughts

The songbird sings. The bell rings. The clock chimes. The farm is rich in limes. A slow dance, a quick pounce, just one chance, to steal a glance. The songs of old, hide memories gold, stories untold, yet to behold. Who knows, what shows, secrets in coves, hidden behind cute bows. I did try, she …

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A Dance Away

The fingers skipped, hoped, and danced all over the grim, black keyboard as it clanked through yet another ritual. It envied the mouse, well-rested at its side. The keyboard, KB, had grown accustomed to its executioner’s month-old-routine. At about the same time every evening, he would pull the chair to the desk, hold KB by …

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