Bury the pain Let no one in Hide it away Believe your sin   Keep to yourself For all its merit No claim for help Fixed to swallow it   Realities of life Can be a shame Apportions your strife Tis the game   Play it well and concede An artificial smile Through eyes [...]

Appraising the Disintegration

  Tears were allegory as parting of ways commenced Kindness disciplined with failed attempts at respect provoking one another   Worthiness noted although efforts are botched, Inevitability lingers as valediction disregarded and perverse silence hinders   Though predicaments were sorrowful Prediction of events were foreseen None-the-less noteworthy


A short story that I wrote a year ago, edited.

Shell de Toni


Where am I?

I don’t understand.

Is this a dream?

Why is that woman singing my name?

“Sweet Angeline I loved you much more than poets say in rhyme, waaaakkkke up punkin.”

“Mom?” The sound of my childlike voice alarmed me to the point of tears.

In a futile attempt to assess the situation, I began to analyze how this could be that I’m once again a small child. Wearing a Wonder Woman nightgown, I lay in a very uncomfortable spring bed in a bedroom that I barely remember.

Panic stricken and with wet cheeks, I try to find a rational explanation of why I’ve suddenly woken up as my three-year old self.  “I should not be here.”

Misunderstanding my predicament, mother comes to me for comfort.  “Did you have a bad dream sweetie?” Scooping me up in her lap, she holds tight and rocks us both in perfect unison…

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