New movella


1. "Tadpole"

I was just a tadpole in my papas eye. A mere reflection in a small puddle of rain water Up in the hills of West Virginia, on a well traveled, unpaved and rocky trail to the coal mines. Young and old whipper snappers, a moment in time, that seems so long ago. The aroma of Honeysuckle and freshly mowed grass, along the side of the road, lingers as a distant memory. Effortless and resurfacing, at a moments notice without thought or reasoning

With only a two inch gap of my cars window open, and out of sight. A scribbled language of happiness and joy, of children playing in a school yard at recess. Vibrations of these voices carried lightly, and gently on the wings, of a cool and crisp, Autumns morning breeze.

No longer can I hear the vibrations on the wings, for recess has been suspended, not deleted. Guaranteed to be liked and shared, by those who can not see, but absorb the music!

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