Blind as a mole
Three weeks ago I lost my glasses. Because they fog up with the mask that I wear as protection against the coronavirus, when I go out, I take them off,
Despite its troubles
Pictures, memories and short stories from a wandering mind
From The Blog
Three weeks ago I lost my glasses. Because they fog up with the mask that I wear as protection against the coronavirus, when I go out, I take them off,
An explosion, a loud shake, and the screeching of iron on iron interrupted the conversations and led to an ominous silence. The shooting began immediately. The train had derailed after
Claire was so upset, she lost it. Somebody had gone to the CEO of his company with absurd accusations against her telling him she was some communist agitator after a
Jacy knew his way through the plain to the mountains. He has done it with his father many times before. But this time he had to go alone for the
I would like to have a place to call my village, but my roots are very far away. I’m a child of exile, and for many years those places were
Cee’s fun foto challenge: Reed read or red.
My father had an aunt named Olga, a teacher at the school in his town, Kotor. She was respected and loved by everybody because she cared for her pupils very
In the XI century, some artists carved Leyre’s monastery’s door in Navarre and filled the Romanic arch with fantastic animals. I searched in my archives and found two of them,
I was born in exile and went to school without knowing my parents’ new country’s language. To further complicate things in the classroom, I had (and still have) a directionality