Morning Stories
When the first word pops into my head in the morning, these spontaneous stories emerge. Without a plan. But with fun.
Konstantin the stinker.
Love is flighty, most of all in its opening stage. Every now and then it remembers itself and goes flighty again. The flutter of butterflies in the belly. The flutter of knees. The fluttery liability of shared birth control.Früh Ling
If a single word can set the entire arsenal of emotions spinning, then those few letters must be carrying an enormous payload of associations. When spring announces not only itself but is heralded by the writing and rhyming guild, many things begin to sprout anew.
Well, Eve?
"So, Eve, how are you doing?" "Oh, thanks for asking. I think I'm doing well." "Eve — were you even asked?"
What’s going on?
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