The light begins to fade on the streets of Venice and I can’t decide what’s more entertaining, the story of the lost tourist sitting at the table beside me, the thoughts in my head, or the whirlpool of my pink Bellini. Tourist upon tourists wander by without a second thought while aching feet intersect with…
Tag: short story
Throwback Thursday: 12:30 am
Its 12:30 am and I know I will feel this late night tomorrow as I wake up and drive more hours than I slept home. Yet despite all that, the words lay storming in my mind waiting to stream out of my fingers and swim like migrating salmon onto the page.