At dawn, I part with my little one’s smile, A fleeting warmth that…
He walks the streets, his head held low, A shadow where the neon…
Beneath the blood-red evening sky, In 1809, where shadows lie, A lone rider…
Somewhere in the French Alps… A little stream that flowed through the pine…
Part 2 of 3 short stories that are sure to take you on…
Part 1 of 3 short stories that are sure to take you on…