It is difficult to catch your breath when you are always on the move. During the daylight hours, I navigate an endless parade of faces, offering up firm handshakes with bright smiles. I am a perpetual traveler, greeting, meeting,

Dimly lit by moonlight, the painting rests uneasily on the floor where he crouches to examine its brash swirling colors, mixing, if not in complete harmony, then in anticipation of some unifying melody yet unheard. Captivated by the picture’s

You move away from me, but not all at once. That would be too easy. The slow fade feels like mercy at first. Unlike the clean break, it gets worse every passing day. It’s like moving from a house