Waking up to grief is like coming out of a dream to the sound of a washing machine out of balance.Read More
Author: Dixie Gillaspie
We know the time is coming. The time when we will have to let her spirit leave the shiny sleek black body, let the light die out of the round chocolate eyes, and let ourselves mourn her physical companionship that has meant something different to each of us, but so much to all of us.
But that time is not now. Now is the time for treasuring her.Read More
I do want. I don’t just want to do writing. I don’t just want to be a writer. I want my truths to be loosed as words into the universe, like crystalline snowflakes; no two the same no matter how similar the arrangement of letters seem to be. I want to know that that they’ll be savored on a tongue, or become droplets on a bare cheek. I want to feel them absorbed into the waters of the world to reemerge reimagined by readers who will make of them their own truth.Read More