Write Now and Later

Every Moment is a Story.

Dark Times

Voodoo ebb and flow; Summer setting on the horizon. My fancy white linen crumples to a dirty gray mound. Wicked vibes are rippling. The days are getting shorter; I can feel the chill of darkness behind me. Another spell is cast. Night is expected and still disturbing.

David W. Jones

August 28, 2020

Creative Writing

Autumn, darkness, death, Fall, horizon, Magic, night, Poem, Poetic, poetry, seasons, spell, Spring, Summer, Time, voodoo, Winter, Writing, Writing Community

One response to “Dark Times”

8 Months into November – Write Now and Later says:

November 7, 2020 at 2:35 PM

[…] went by without a word; I waited breathlessly. After a month, I decided to try my luck elsewhere. Time moved on despite your silence. Twenty-three days into October, you responded. The curt note of […]

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One response to “Dark Times”