“Tell me a story, grandpa,” Whispered Charlotte. The air was cold, colder than the first frost, perhaps even colder than winter itself....

An Ant’s Fate? On the path I know, A smudge of their saliva, Thanks a lot. I’m lost. Marriage I crumble in cracks Of your shattered eyes...

For someone lacking them, Even without a single thumb, I know their great weakness, Including their great loveliness. These little...