It’s Only Words

“He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.” W.H. Auden She was tired. Very tired. She placed her folded hands on the desk then followed by laying…

Questions In The Dark

“Are you happy?” He asked her. Suddenly. Four syllables. Three words. Forming one question. Every pixel blinking brightly from the flickering screen. Glaring at her. Judge and jury combined. Collective fingers pointing accusingly. Daggers piercing through her Kevlar-clad heart. Those deadly arrows poised at the ready accompanied by enormous trebuchets bombarding the firewall she thought…