Palms, Olives and Thorns

Holy Thursday made a pilgrimage back to L.A, where the grains of mustard seeds  grow as large as the kingdom of heaven, orange poppies border the highway, citrus blossoms and jasmine perfume the car, palm trees line the streets the same  as they do out here in the desert — out here where everything seemsContinue reading “Palms, Olives and Thorns”

Surro-Ghost Writer

Feeling like an empty bag nowadays; skin crumpled up like a piece of paper. I have delivered a story—someone else’s child, the one I carried for almost nine months–to her mother. Had I known the pain of separation, perhaps I would not have taken on the role of surrogate writer (ghostwriter) in the first place.Continue reading “Surro-Ghost Writer”