The View From Here: reaching back

For me there was an atavistic connection: strong and raw.  Unsophisticated, preliterate.

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There was a darkness so thick it felt like a warm bath, yet the air was crackling sharp with cold.  And the pin-bright sliver of moon hung over the water between the cliffs.  A scimitar shining; sprinkling magic. Continue reading “The View From Here: reaching back”