Our Only Kiss Was Like An Accident-

Part Of The Creative Process For Me Is An Invitation For Readers To Follow Their Imagination.

To Transform Experience And Thought Into Language And Narrative - That Is Beautiful Even If That Beauty Is In Brokenness.

Well, As My Dad Would Say, It Means She’s Out Of This Shithole.

Last Night It Had Been My Father Who Had Finally Said It: "she’s Never Coming Home." A Clear And Easy Piece Of Truth That Everyone Who Had Ever Known Me Had Accepted. But He Needed To Say It, And She Needed To Hear Him Say It.

I Was In The Air Around Him. I Was In The Cold Mornings He Had Now. I Was In The Quiet Time He Spent Alone. I Was The Girl He Had Chosen To Kiss. He Wanted, Somehow To Set Me Free. -susie Salmon