We begin at an insignificant little place, a desolate beacon standing silent out in the empty smog

Completed novel: The Memory of Blue Sky

Do you remember a blue sky? Not just blue, but wide as the eye can see blue, and deep, eternally deep? A vista at once calm and still, but free and full of dreams? So open yet somehow undeniably certain, and as much a part of the fullness of existence as breathing? Continue reading “We begin at an insignificant little place, a desolate beacon standing silent out in the empty smog”