Internalizing this today, I think about those moments spent treading water and I can’t help but compare them to my writing journey. I feel like I’m treading water, struggling just to stay above the surface. Yet, unlike those days in my youth, I have a lot more baggage now. Staying afloat also means fighting my demons.
Short Story: The Boy in the Window
Snowflakes fall and his breath swirls in the cold winter air as a boy stares through an old man’s window and the magic of words come to life before his eyes. This is Andrew’s story.