Choosing to Morning
Saturday, April 11, 2026
She turns away from the usual comfort of Pain, which lurks behind her right shoulder.
She feels Dëåth’s cold breath on the back of her neck.
She twists to look over her left shoulder at Dêåth, flirting.
I rise with a story or idea, a song or character raging in my brain. Or it intrudes during zazen. Or wind flings it against my window like rain. It does not belong in the WIP so I put it here.