The muses are ghosts, and sometimes they come uninvited.
GhostsTake shape under moonlight,materialize in dreams.Shadows. Silhouettesof what is no more. Butghosts don’tbother me. The day bringsbigger things to worry aboutthan flimsy remains ofyesterday. No, spooks don’tscare me.Gauzy apparitions mightprank your psyche oragitate your nightmares,but...
Because I love a pair of pretty green eyes.” He grinned.
These were the things we would never notice were missing.
Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that’s what.
A writer’s journey may be tough, but never give up and enjoy every moment.
Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.