…and I man­aged to write. I’m quite happy with myself about the whole thing. My wife decided to take the kids out after work and give me some time to try my hand at re-affiliating myself with some form of writing,

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The ashes, the del­i­cate flames that light her like dry parch­ment. A seething, a burn­ing: the most com­plete sen­sa­tion of decent. Life with­ers and fades and dark­ness takes light. There, she sits alone as heat engulfs and drowns out a vying

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Yet another entry not of the prose per­sua­sion. I apol­o­gise to myself more than any­one because I truly want to write, and over the last few days I have cer­tainly felt the inspi­ra­tion but then my PC went plop. I could

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Well I hoped to be post­ing some new writ­ing, but for some rea­son I just can’t seem to get any­thing down. It’s espe­cially annoy­ing as I have had a cou­ple of hours to myself — free from the world outside

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