By P.A. O’Neil Aggie slumped back into her Queen Anne desk chair, elbows resting on the slender arms, hands on her thighs. She stared at the crisp sheet of white paper rolled in-and-out of her Remington typewriter. It was as…
By: Linda M Crate i can be soft as petals, but i can be cutting as thorns; gave you my worst and my best thought inbetween the scars we both had that we could find this thing that is…