The perilous slumber of day. A poem.

I tend to think poems are a bit pointless except as a form of expression for the writer, often voicing things they otherwise cannot. I don’t say that to degrade their value or beauty, mind, and I am certainly no poet! When I was younger, writing poetry was solely a form of catharsis, vomiting out painful…

A universe without magic

I saved my most beautiful topic for today, the final entry in Emmeline’s tale. It’s been an intense 31 days, possibly the most consistently intense 31 days in my life. But I’m glad I’ve done it. It proves a point that in the strangest and simplest of words, topics and themes, that there is always…

A photo worth a thousand words

I believe Donia was sitting on a beach somewhere in Cambodia when she came up with the unusual topic of missing fathers. Seeing as the theme of fathers – missing, dead or disturbing – is central to the story so far, day seventeen seemed the perfect day for it. (If you are joining Emmeline’s story…