Greylag {A Short Story}: The goose, the girl, and the midnight mystery
He came on the last breath of a nor’easter, an apparition gathered out of the morning mist. His form, that of a goose, but his substance of something yet unseen...
Category: healing
Mortal Hope
We are frail. A puff of breath, too soon extinguished, a gathering of dust, too easily scattered. We wrestle with this mortality in the face of the invisible ar...