Odd Still Life My Odd Still Life (In A Few Well And/Or Badly Chosen Words)

Even A Sentence. . . .

She lies on the grass at the top of the cliff and looks down into the water.

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His eyes flash bright in the sudden blinding light.

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She thinks about writing a poetry book.

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There once was a quiet little place at the end of a long dirt road.

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I need to sleep.

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The sound of metal crunching and wood snapping woke him.

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If only it were true.

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It's going to be a very long day.

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"Good morning."

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I stood at the edge of the cliff and wondered if I would ever have the courage to step into the void.

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