Soaring
Jonathan Livingston Seagull sighed. The price of being misunderstood. They call you devil or they call you god. What he had once hoped for the Flock, he now gained for himself alone; and was not sorry for the price that he had paid.
The Love of My Life
He understands I only ever wanted one thing.
July 12th
My mother spoke of the origin of my name: "The first ray of the sun's light." And a lifelong chase ensued; always the subtle glow in the distance. . . warmth of a Vermeer hearth, painted in tender brushstrokes, whispering promises of a future when all will be drenched in a lightness of being Milan Kundera knows all too well. Said simply, in the right light, at the right time, everything will be extraordinary. -Anisha
Cancer Moon Child
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