December 2009
1 post
True Grit
I am a boat, my belly below water, floating and crashing over perilous waves. Before me lay a pillar of stone, splitting my path in two different ways. Behind me my past lay littered swirling around me, bottles and broken bits of wood, spilt oil and tar. Did it really matter, or was it all trash, leading me to where I am now?
From the stone comes a voice, tiny and quiet echoing in the gulls and...