Letter of the Week
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I stood in the stairwell, on the rise so I felt safe. Kids walked past me, I froze in the corner. My shoulders tapped walls, cold tile was my security. I knew faces, passing smiles. Eyes went by with vacancy. If I could return years later, the same boy, less tiresome. Perhaps then might my…
About the Archivist
This is a site based on my writing with a focus on cathartic moments and points in my life that I hope might resonate with readers.
Each is transcribed with care and respect for the medium that first carried it: the typewritten page.
What Crosses My Mind 