About stories of all kinds
I kept picturing that time, alone during the gloriously slow, unscheduled days surrounded by the muffled snow-quiet, in my parents' house... I sat at the family desktop computer in the living room and watched my words reach out into the world. That was seven years ago. Today.
To all humankind besides, Tess was only a passing thought. Even to friends she was no more than a frequently passing thought. Tess of the D’Urbervilles Ever wondered what other people think about you? Or who thinks about you? Or how often? It’s not really a profitable use of time, but it’s natural to wonder… Continue reading ‘Passing thought’
Fictitiously Yours 