Fresh Cut Grass | A Poetic Reflection by Margaret South

Fresh Cut Grass

He recognized the smell of fresh-cut grass. It came to him; those shit-ass blockers let him get taken down. Then he sunk into a chill twilight again. The next time he came to, the prickle of the coppery blood.

small kids

When Your Child Has 101 Missing Assignments

At the same time, her daughter Abby started virtual learning. A super-smart girl, my niece figured out she could hit “submit” for an assignment without attaching any work, and her mom would never know.

rose-pant

Word Count, Schmerd Count

I suggest, instead of chasing the daily word count, try to find one little teensy bit of truth in your writing. Maybe you realized something about your genre. Maybe you found out something new about your Main Character.

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