Then there will be times when I go missing. As a cat, I am. Alone. Dying quietly. My preference. Having nine lives, but only one face, everything shows. Too hard to hide. Best to be alone. Licking my wounds in peace. Healing. Thinking. Regrouping. Patiently awaiting the rebirth. The next act. S. Conde Read…
I traveled a great distance to be here and now. Across vast craggy mountains I climbed, stumbled and fell. Clinging to rock with bare fingers and broken nails, I thought I would die. I did not. Crawling, I continued, on hands and knees through bushes and briars, whose branches tangled and pulled at my hair,…