Moons ago, someone carved me a nickname into the sand. The tide came and swept my name away. That name was "Sputnitsa," which means "fellow traveler" in Russian.
The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it. ~ Henry David Thoreau
The Past Lives Here…
- Follow Notes of a Scribbler on WordPress.com
Category Archives: coming back to America
Have the courage to accept our responsibility and our pain as our starting point. Imagine, seek and honor the most compelling truth of “the other side.” Abandon demeaning speech and belittling thoughts. Forgive others for not being perfect, for not … Continue reading
I remember last winter very well. I remember how the cold never died; how I never shed my layers, not even indoors. How I wore all I could to bed. How my water bottles froze by my bed. The wind … Continue reading