Moleskine Pages- When Are The Children Coming

It was a collective memory. A tribal fear. The fish just kept coming at some point, it was hoped children would be born. In the meantime they fed on the fish.

Moleskine Pages - Help Me Mother

She was his soft place to fall, he was the pebble in her shoe. Together they were happy enough.

life kills

Moleskine Pages - No Drowning

' I was too lazy to be born again, so I'd lie back and dream of drowning.'