cigarettes in the snow

The man took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked it from his fingers. He pulled his fur coat closer around his small frame, his breath misting in the frozen air. The snow was falling, thick and silent. All sounds of the passing traffic were muffled in this narrow alley, the people and their…

the fan spins

Some days I feel tired right down to my bones. The clock ticks, the fan spins, my eyelids become heavier and heavier. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I just want to sleep and sleep, climb into bed for a week or more. Perhaps then I will have some energy, muster up some zest…