Tag Archives: High

That a life builds, grows Is what she had heard. But it sometimes felt The opposite. It was as if a life Started with a mountain A mass of granite Immovable, vast And then things happened: Events, thoughts. The mountain Was chipped away at Incrementally. Tiny etchings, furrows – Surfaces scuffed, worn – From theContinue reading “100-Wird Fiction: ‘No Mountain High’”