Treading heavily through the moon-lit fields, the air became colder with each step. Winter was coming.
No – winter had already arrived. The fires behind me were slowly dying down, and small flakes started blanketing the valley…

A poem for my daddy.

Disgrace.

England in medieval times, a look at what might have been.

A story about eight troubled teens on their first day back to school after spring break.

Party like it’s 1999 BC.

In honor of two great men in my life.

Who will make it into the NBA playoff round and go straight to the finals?

Poem.

In the spring a new child will join the family, maybe even a girl if they were lucky this time.