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Writing and Living

For the longest time, I’ve heard that art borrows from life. For the last few days, I’ve been fascinated by the possibility that a writer’s life is affected by the fiction he or she writes.

Back Again and Thank-yous

my online existence is an inseparable part of who, and that I can’t just write about me being in a wheelchair on this blog, then waltz off and expect everyone to take it in a theoretical sense… virtual life is very real in some ways.

Flash Fiction Challenge: Unexpected guest(s)

You must stop this, they said, their voices rising and falling in chorus, your name is Sakhi.

What does Sakhi mean? she asked.

Friend, best friend, girlfriend. You’re our friend, and so we come to warn you, the voices replied.

What can I do? said Sakhi, I’m only six years old.

But you’re alive, they said, and vanished.