writing

Return to whence I came

What was it that you said to me? Oh yes “Leave my life and never call me again” I remember that day; it was a cold harsh autumn evening. As I opened the window, the glare of the morning sun pierced through my eyes. Not sure what hurt the most that day, the thumping pain(…)

A tale of revenge

“The sound of my own breath echoed in a room where time stood still. This realm of self-imposed darkness that I had chosen to be my home. My sanctum. My domain. When one cannot withstand the harshness of life and the bitter lessons it teaches us then exile was my only available option. A place(…)

Two generations, two writers, one love

Being a writer I can usually see when there is a fellow writer at work. As I boarded the Eurostar this morning I got out my Ipad, opened up the plethora of apps that I use in order to update my screenplays and began tapping away. About half way through the journey I noticed that(…)