Nameless Storytellers A story told and never written, whispered in secret, remembered. Generations of  women, shaping the world, one story...

  The Silent Procession The orchestra couldn’t come because it was too cold. The only music – the crunching of the snow as the procession mo...

  Caller Herring There is a painting I once saw. A girl sitting under a tree. A basket of herrings by her side. Her dreamy eyes staring into...

  Maleficent  I have never liked children. They walk in here, clumsy and loud, their fat fingers all over my work. This girl was no exceptio...

  A Piano Concert I dreamt of my friend again last night. In my dream, she was playing Bach, Wearing a white dress, black shoes and a large ...

  Let me sell this pen to you This pen rebelled against me. This pen spoke filthy words. This pen could speak. This pen cheated on me. This ...

  A Duet of Owls There might be birds with a song sweeter than theirs.  Some say they sing out of tune. Still, only her call can help him fi...