PC: Waldemar and Max

She sang to me, her words reverberating like broken strings on a Spanish guitar. But softly - softer than any old guitar could sing. Every broken note filling the empty places in my broken heart until it was whole again. The song carried through the day and wrapped around the glowing stars at night. In the morning, she sang me into existence. But all songs must end. And in ending, this song flung my ribs open like a bird cage and let the ghosts of her melody fly from the holes time could not heal. I lost myself searching for the forgotten memory of her voice. Time was the last string, and she broke that too.


  1. You have some nice posts indeed madam.
    Check us out i reckon that you will like what we are doing.

  2. lovely post. these shots are amazingly romantic / revenge of the birds. i love it.

  3. Do you write all these short passages?
    They're brilliant.
    They manage to capture such intense feeling in so few words.

  4. Ah yes, that concept makes a lot of sense. Word snap-shots. 'Short Story' didn't seem like the right term for them, but that fits.

    That is also very true. Short and sweet does grab the attention more than page long essays.
    You've found a fan in me, most definitely.

  5. Yea all of that work is mine, and I must say, good skills, let me know if you want to further this convo, you're really good.


    I might wanna use one of your pics for an album i am working on(musician too, sigh, dualities)

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