Beginning of a novel?

Every since I walked into that Pentechostal church one Sunday evening at six years old and heard the visiting evangelist talk about hell, I’ve lived my life scared, always looking over my shoulder, wondering what or who would strike me down in the prime of my youth.  It added an extra amount of nervousness to… Read More


I have to confess that I am addicted to all things dealing with time. There are several verses that ring true in this poem by Simply Stella, but my favorite one is time as selfish.