Valiant Scribe
A literary hub giving voice to the voiceless by retelling the human experience

The loss of who I thought I was is difficult to accept. But I want to illuminate the cavern to make it safe for Happiness – remove the nerves of memories, indecision can leave, too – unwanted visitors turned back by orange construction barriers.

Fingers of pine feather the sky, juncos hopping in the shadows – light and dark marbled through cedar and sycamore.