I am a daughter, wife, lover, mother, orphan, friend, writer of sorts, a harlot, a gypsy, a nurturer. I am an enigma. Read these pages and know who I am. Two years ago I started experimenting with short stories. Here are three, in the order written.
Many writers keep a journal.
It somehow keeps us focused with the added fillup that it forces us to write something regularly. Anyway, click on the book icon and enter the twisted passages of my mind. These stories are dedicated to Jay, who taught me that even cheetahs can fly if they believe they can. He also taught me that love comes in many forms, and does not have to be corporeal to be real and true and infinite. Thank you, my Mentor, for all you have given me.