Star Tripping


In star spanned dreams I ventured

Through time and space unending

No point of reference I saw offered

For time existed no more

And distance was beyond measure

How small my being and unknown

Until next I was present in all

Consciousness spanned and joined

With all stars, galaxies and universes

The atoms of my being ceased to be

And were dispersed through infinity

Their true home, boundless

Spread through the vastness

Yet condensed to the singularity

Of one knowing point of existence

And in the majesty of all,

Looking back towards me

As a reflection, I saw your face

So we created existence, you and I

Together with all sentient beings

Through the desire of thought

And we gloried in the structure

Of a creation built of love.

Turned in Blood – Flash Fiction


A short story for Chuck Wendig’s genre mash-up fiction challenge. The dice chose for me a combination of vampire erotica and noir detective!

Note, this is an erotic story with explicit sexual content.

Turned in Blood

The street corner offered limited shelter from the torrential rain. In the dark of the early evening Detective Frank Marston huddled under a doorway and took a long slug from the quarter bottle of whiskey, held like a precious trophy in his numb hands. He was digesting his latest misfortune; his bitch of a wife filing for divorce. This was on top of recently diagnosed prostate cancer, and a career which was slipping through his fingers.

He couldn’t do anything about the bitch, and the cancer was in the hands of specialists. All he could influence was Lieutenant William’s threat of demoting him back to uniform. At 38 years of age, but feeling 50, that would kill him if his prostate didn’t. He needed a new case, one he could get his teeth into and win.

“Fuck!” he said, then drained the bottle and tossed it in a trash can. He staggered the quarter mile back to the precinct, trying to avoid Williams, who usually worked late too; Frank new he looked and smelled like he’d been drinking.

He slunk back to his desk unnoticed and worked through a pile of paper work. After a few minutes he realized he hadn’t taken in a single word or fact. There seemed no point in staying, but where would he go? Since separating from the bitch he had moved out of their plush suburban home to a shitty little apartment on the wrong side of town, frequented by drug users and drunks. He never thought of classifying himself in the latter category.

He was about to leave, a seedy bar having won as the preferred destination over his apartment, when a colleague entered.

“Hey Frank, glad you’re here. New call just came in, a murder down Rose Avenue.”

Fuck, he thought, I could do without this now.

“Can’t you take it on Steve?”

“Sorry, I’m doing interviews, got some crazies to deal with. Look, uniform are down there now, they need someone pronto.”

“OK, OK, I’ll go.”

Rose Avenue was an up-market area, the realm of lawyers and financial types, with a sprinkling of the ‘arty’ class. It was too far to walk so he got behind the wheel of his car. He knew he was DUI but didn’t care. He weaved down the rain sodden streets, reflecting headlights and streetlights like a mirror, while nursing a strong black mug of coffee in one hand.

Uniform had cordoned off the area and had begun to preserve the scene, the officer guarding the entrance to the building waved him through.

“Where am I heading?”

“Third floor, apartment 13, Jack is up there.”

Frank climbed the stairs, he didn’t trust lifts. The door to the apartment was open but the room was dark.

“Any lights around here?” he called out.

An officer appeared from the shadows.

“Hi Frank, looks like the main fuse has blown, no power to anything.”

Frank took out his Maglite.

“Where’s the stiff?”

“Follow me. A bit weird this one.”

“How’s that Jack?”

“You’ll see.”

Frank’s torch beam scanned the bedroom and settled on the body of a female lying prostrate on the bed. He put her age at mid 30’s, smartly dressed and very attractive. He walked around the bed assessing, looking for those infinitesimal indications of importance that can be missed by the untrained eye. This was Frank’s strength and now he was back into the flow of what he did best. Then he saw what was strange; the smile on her face and two puncture wounds to her neck, with congealed blood running in a streak down her neck to a dried pool on the sheet.

“What have we got here then, a vampire killing?” Frank jested.

“There are no other injuries, she’s stone cold. Must have been dead for hours but the call only came through 25 minutes ago.”

“Who called it in?”

“Anonymous. There’s no sign of a struggle or anything taken, and no forced entry.”

“Have we got a name or any other details?” Frank asked.

“A quick look in her purse says she’s Claire Heart, single, a PR executive, that’s all we’ve got. Look, it’s a busy night, forensics should be here soon. Mind if myself and the lads leave you to it? I’ll leave Kelly at the front door.”

“No, go ahead; I’ll have a look around.”

Frank made a slow search of the apartment, room by room, trying to find a clue to the motive behind the murder. But there was nothing. A random killing or a lovers tiff perhaps? He felt it in his blood, his appetite was whetted, this was the case to change his course. He would stop drinking, for now.

He returned to the bedroom and had a cursory look through drawers and then the wardrobes. Suddenly he felt a presence and turned to see a woman looking at him, her eyes glowed with an eerie redness and the bed was empty. He recoiled in shock and drew his gun, pointing it and his torch at the apparition. The woman was standing three feet away and wasn’t moving. She just smiled. Crazy, but it had to be Claire, his thoughts were confirmed when he saw the marks on her neck. She licked her lips and Frank felt a strange sexual yearning. Claire looked down; she could obviously see the erection that was distorting his trousers.

She moved towards him but he backed away until he was pressed against the wall, almost in the corner, with nowhere else to go. She slowly reached for the gun and withdrew it from his hand, he offered no resistance.

“You don’t need that,” she purred. Her sultry voice was intoxicating and sexy.

Claire pressed her lips against his; they were cold, freezing, but moist. His tongue responded and his desire reached a new peak. A stinging sensation moved down his neck and she broke the kiss to examine her finger, dribbling with blood, his blood. She smiled and placed it in her mouth, sucked, and then moaned in orgasmic delight.

Frank was simultaneously scared and turned on as he noticed her enlarged canine teeth and the red eyes bore into him.

“What the hell is going on?” he said. “I thought you were dead.”

“Maybe I am,” she said.

Then she took his hand and led him to the bed. He moved like he was in a trance, yielding to fate. Her manner changed, turning from soft and feminine to aggressive as she stripped him of his clothes and hurriedly removed hers. She pushed him backwards onto the bed and, with a hungry look, bent down and took his raging cock into her mouth.

Frank moaned, all fear gave way to lust as she drew him in, the last vestiges of control and normality passing as her ice cold mouth milked him. Her fingers explored where no fingers had been before, except his proctologist’s lubricated glove. She became a wild animal possessed with an extreme sexuality, doing things to him, and making him do things to her, that he’d only read about, and some he hadn’t. She took him to heights of pleasure he’d never known before. He came, perhaps two or three times, he didn’t know, all he knew was the ecstasy of the moment, and then she mounted him.

As the soft, pink flesh of her hairless pussy engulfed him in its icy cavern he let out a gasp, it seemed she was consuming his entire being, not just his aching cock. Her fingers scratched and dug deep into his chest and stomach as she moved up and down, her pale breasts bouncing in rhythm. Lines of blood appeared which she licked from his chest and took up on her fingers, sucking each in turn. This drove her into a frenzy of passion, and she rode him with raw animal passion and abandon. How long this went on for he didn’t know but eventually she came, screaming like a demented feral cat. His final orgasm, it had to be the last surely, erupted, filling her belly with his seed and then she collapsed across him. Her mouth covered his and he tasted blood, his own. She gave him some, allowing it to trickle onto his tongue. Strange but erotic emotions flooded through him.

Frank felt as though he were in some timeless dream world, far away from the cares of the world, all problems gone. Sex had never been like this, not in his wildest dreams. What was the next move? They dozed, exhausted, and then the temperature of the room dropped and a breeze blew in despite the window being closed, it was followed by a rushing sound.

A figure appeared with familiar glowing eyes, this time bright yellow, like a wolf. Two long fangs, much longer than Claire’s, hung over her lower lip. Long jet black hair was tied back exposing a face almost white apart from dark circles around the eyes. A black cloak covered her entire torso.
Claire came to with a start.
“Mistress Lopi!”

“The master sent me to collect you and what do find? This human is for our use as a race, not for your personal pleasure, you haven’t even turned him yet! It would be useful to have one of us, like him, in the Police Department to further our cause. I’ll deal with you later. You’ve had your fun with him, now he’s mine!”

Lopi smiled; there was no pleasantness to it, just a look of sexual passion, intimidation and power. She pushed Claire off the bed with a flick of her index finger and then removed the cloak exposing the most beautiful body Frank had ever seen. What happened over the next round of sexual exploits exhausted Frank’s body and blew his mind as she used him any way she saw fit; performing acts that made Claire appear tame in comparison. Her physical strength was incredible; there was nothing he could do to resist. In the final moments, as the she was coming, Frank felt an intensely painful bite to his neck, which was held in a vice like grip until it spurred him to his own tumultuous orgasm and he passed out.

Frank awoke from a strange and lucid dream dominated by teeth and bizarre sexual practices. His watch indicated only fifteen minutes having passed since he arrived. Through the foggy haze of his mind he tried to remember. The girl was still on the bed next to him, lifeless, and his neck was sore. What the hell happened here? The answers never came. Only hints, in daydreams to come, would remind him of what happened. He walked out of the apartment into the black night and the endless rain.

Officer Kelly knew nothing of the events that took place, he heard no disturbance, but he did notice the vacant look on Franks face when he came out oft the building. The forensic team found no trace of the body, though Frank swore blind she was still on the bed when he left. Claire was eventually listed as a missing person, but was never seen or heard of again.

A week later a check up revealed that Frank’s cancer had disappeared, the consultant was astounded. Frank had never felt stronger, and he was smarter. He excelled at work, new powers working to his advantage. But now he could only ever work between sunset and sunrise.

The Sea Speaks


I immersed myself,
submerged in your infinity
and spread my thoughts
through the depths
of your unfathomable
beauty and power.

I felt the life within you
connected in the fluid
caressing my skin
the same touching all
over vast distances
a unified field

I heard the speech
of whale, seal and dolphin
and sensed them near
wishing to save us
from follies untold
wise ones of your world

I know your strength
in tumultuous seas
I have witnessed
a force unyielding
that none can stop
only a fool would dare

You birthed me eons ago
as you formed all life
in the creative ebb and flow
of tides and storms
the primeval soup of dreams
the womb of mother earth

You mirror the cosmos
as above, so below
all is connected
as you have shown me
we are one life
you, us and the stars.

But it is to you
I must return, one day
when the sun dies
and earth becomes cold
in you will the last voice
be heard, the final breath

I am the beginning and I am the end.

The Crystal Castle

The previous post was in response to a writing challenge from Chuck Wendig and the following poem was formed in parallel inspiration with the short story, if that makes sense; I’ve no idea how the mind works sometimes 🙂

The Crystal Castle

Crystal castle, shining
with ephemeral light
radiating through all creation
holding in its core
all truth and knowledge
all wisdom and love
abounding with succour
the sanctuary of souls.

Angels come hence
to rest their auras
safe from battles
against darkness
and blind ignorance
delighting in the peace
and presence of the one
who guides and loves.

In the halls of learning
the word is spread
to all who come
travellers in space and time
the words of truth
that love is all
in the crystal castle, shining
as a beacon of hope, eternal.

Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and please feel free to share on your social networks.

Castle of Light – flash fiction

A piece of flash fiction inspired by Chuck Wendig’s apple season challenge; take three uncommon apple varieties and use their names as characters, places etc. My choice of apples……..can you figure them out?


Castle of Light

The operative, Nova Spy, scaled the cliff with feline deftness. Her lithe body was encased in a skin hugging black leather body suit; a wide webbing belt held all the tools required for her purpose.

As she reached the summit the rain, blown by a gale, stung her eyes and her shoulder length hair thrashed her face. She cursed Oliver for calling this mission at short notice. Hunched close to the ground she wiped the hair and water from her eyes and then viewed the target. Lord Lambone’s castle loomed menacingly into the night sky, glowing in the subdued light of a half-moon.

“Nova to O, I’ve reached the top.” She spoke into a two-way radio.

“Received,” said Oliver.

She looked around with the darting eyes of a hunted animal and moved towards the nearest wall, trying to picture where Lambone may be hiding.

“He’ll pay!” she whispered.

Oliver viewed her movements via the feed from a high-resolution camera housed in a pod beneath his ship. He maintained at a discrete distance high above the castle and relaxed, watching the proceedings from a comfortable chair while sipping his favourite Ganymede brandy. He should have stormed the place with particle beam guns and plasma canons but Nova would have non of it, too easy. She wanted to take the traditional approach, so becoming of the Pleiadian race he thought; damned hybrids! Nevertheless he admired her performance so far. Once she had recovered the missing portion of the Nagami Sigil, a portal to higher dimensions, they would be off this rock holding untold power throughout the galaxy. He smiled to himself and felt a stirring between his legs as he zoomed in on her curvaceous body.

Nova climbed the three storey high wall without difficulty, aided by the bio-adhesive pads on her feet and hands, a throw-back to the days when her race lived high in the trees on Gantes. She leapt over the parapet and moved towards a lit window, peering inside at the sumptuous decor and furniture. Lord Lambone lived alone, a butler and housekeeper were the only other residents; he would be unable to resist once he saw her.

“Entering the residence now,” she told Oliver.

“I see you. Work quickly.”

“Maintain radio silence from here on.”


Nova slid through the nearest door with her gun raised and panned it across the room. It was empty but she could hear music playing further into the castle; she ventured forth and moved through the corridors and rooms like a shadow. She was calm and focussed but there was an inner excitement at the thought of what would be when this night was over; a new life, freedom.

Despite her stealth she heard a sound behind her, and then a voice she knew so well.

“Turn around, slowly,” it said.

She obeyed but kept her gun raised, swinging it sharply around to point straight at the head of her stalker.

“Nova Spy. It’s been a long time,” he said, pointing his own gun at her.

“Lord Lambone. Indeed it has.”

Lambone stood with confidence, holding a semi automatic, old fashioned ballistic pistol. How quaint she thought. But her mind diverted to his physique, clearly displayed through his casual clothes, and to the smooth, deep voice emanating from the attractive face. The old longing arose within her.

“You have the package?” he said.

“Of course.”

He began to lower his weapon and smiled, “I’ve missed you.”

Her heart began to race, “I’ve missed you too my Lord.”

She dropped her gun and ran into his arms, wrapping her legs around him. He kissed her mouth, his tongue playing with hers; she knew how he loved to feel the forked tip of hers in his mouth. They both sighed in ecstasy.

“What now?” she said.

“We deal with Oliver.”

They walked out onto the battlements hand in hand and looked up to the sky.

Oliver saw them on his monitor, sat bolt upright and grasped the microphone.

“What the hell is going on Nova?”

“I’m staying here Oliver.”

“Take the missing piece and get yourself back to the ship now!” he commanded.

“No go, Oliver. This is where I belong.”

“I’ll blast you both to hell and recover it myself! I have the other piece.”

“Do you?”

Oliver turned and open the secure locker by the control console to find it empty. Nova’s voice came over the radio again.

“Looking for this?” she said.

He stared in disbelief at the monitor, she was holding both parts of the Sigil, raised high in each hand as if to taunt him.

Lambone spoke, “I know you can hear me Commander Oliver. It’s all over, your plans have failed, light has overcome darkness as written in the Book of Kell. Fate, my friend.”

“Traitor!” Oliver screamed, and began to arm the ships weaponry.

Nova tuned to Lambone, “all prepared?”

“Locked on and ready to fire.”

“Then do it.”

Two missiles erupted from the centre of the castle, accelerating to Mach 2 within three seconds. Oliver saw the flash, but it was too late, his rage evaporated along with the ship and his body.

“We’d better get this to a safe place, away from all future evil,” said Lord Lambone, taking the Sigil from her hands. “We came so close, it would have been the end.”

“I love you Simon,” she said.

He kissed her again “when did you know?”

“Ten years ago. When you rescued me from the ruins of Tauric, after the War of the Knights.”

“Why so long?”

Her eyes dropped to the ground, “I cannot say.” Though in her heart she knew. She looked up again, straight into Simon’s deep blue eyes “But was the wait worth it?”

He smiled, “yes! I’ve longed for this time, and always knew it would come.”

He never saw the burnt, but legible, scrap of paper float down from the sky which she crushed beneath her foot.



Thanks for reading! Comments are welcome and always replied to. Feel free to share on your social media.

The Last Day

The rain lashed down. It bounced off the pavement with the appearance of a boiling cauldron and streamed in rivers down the window. I sipped my coffee, watching drenched pedestrians rushing for cover from the sudden deluge. I sat with a smug feeling, having entered the café moments before it commenced.

A man entered, wearing a grey trench coat and matching Trilby hat. He appeared to be very old but moved with the grace of a young man as he took off his coat, shook the water off and hung it up, his hat followed. His eyes fixed on mine.

He walked towards me, stopped at my table and sat down on the opposite seat.

“What is your name?” he asked.

My senses were already heightened before his question, now I felt distinctly uncomfortable with his presence, yet, for some reason, I gave it to him.

“Thank God,” he said, “I’ve been searching for you for a long time, a very long time.”

He withdrew a brown envelope from his jacket pocket and pushed it towards me with a liver spotted hand.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Open it and see, please.”

I looked inside and withdrew a key and a piece of paper with the plan of a building.

“What is all this?” I asked.

“All will become clear. You don’t like it here do you?”

“No, but how do you know that?”

“I have the benefit of, let’s say, future knowledge. You can’t afford to go home?”

“No, it’s out of the question. For most of us who come here it’s a one way trip.”

“But I’ve found a way.”

“Who are you?”

The stranger reached into his pocket again and produced a passport.

“Take a look,” he said.

“You have the same name as me!”

“Look closer; place and date of birth.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain. I came here long ago, in the same position as you. In time I completed my research and found a way to manipulate time and returned back here, now, to help you. That key is the way home.”

“Why me?”

“We haven’t got long, I’ll be brief. I am you. Your future. If I can get you home I won’t have to spend my life in this God-forsaken place. The life I have led here will cease to be, a paradox I know; how can I be here now talking to you if I was never here?”


“But you have to trust me, for both our sakes. Go to the space port, there you will find a disused room, marked with an ‘X’ on the plan. The key will unlock the door and inside is the transporter I brought back from the future. I have left instructions with it, very simple, it is preset to return you home. Time is running out, you must go. Farewell.”

The man rose, retrieved his hat and coat and walked out. In the blink of an eye he was gone, he simply vanished.
What did I have to lose? I hated it here, trapped. Perhaps this is all fantasy but it wasn’t far to the space port. It had to be worth a look.
And that is exactly how I managed to return home. To leave the persistent rain, the dark skies and the dependence on imported food.

They had terra-formed Mars in 2031 giving those brave enough to risk it the promise of a bright, new future. It didn’t turn out that way. It was bliss to get back to Ganymede.

The Daily Post

What did they learn about us?

After the asteroid impact and subsequent global flooding of 2025 AD, now known as Year Zero NE (New Era), it took humanity half a millennium to return to a state of community, culture and science bearing any resemblance to its former state.
Ragged bands of survivors began to cluster together, battles were fought between the newly enlightened individuals and those still living with the ego driven mindset. The enlightened won the planet. Not through force, they shunned violence, but because they worked in harmony with the planet, Gaia, and she protected those who nurtured her pain; the battles were on a mental level. After a few generations the primitive humans had been wiped out by disease, sterility and their own in-fighting, while the enlightened rose to a higher level of vibration.
The world population gradually expanded, settling at a sustainable level of 1 billion people. Such was the sharing of resources nobody had to work in the traditional sense, there was no money. Some worked the land, others built homes, schools and healing centres, some were artists, musicians and writers. Those who worked the land provided food for all. The builders built homes for all. Those engaged in services to their fellow-man had all provided for them in exchange, a home, food and clothes. Everybody worked in a field which came naturally to them. Perfect balance, a state of euphoria existed never known before in the history of man.
As the culture developed, the study of science finally returned. The people knew everything they needed to know, the meaning of life, how to live in harmony with each other and nature in love and compassion. But, still human, they had curiosity about the world around them.
History also returned as a study. There were vague stories of the human state going back to Year Zero, but no knowledge of what was before that – before the Event. In time a group drew together with the intent of carrying out an archaeological investigation to answer the questions. Eventually they found a site that was fruitful, the remains of a city, buried deep below sand and rock. Digging was easy, mankind had developed the power to tune into creation with his mind and use his inner world to affect the outer. The digging was done by levitating the substrate and depositing it a distance away.
They delved into the past and began piecing together how man previously lived. The facts they learnt imbued them with a mixture of surprise, sadness and humour. It took many months to compile their report; much of what they found was so alien to current life it was often difficult to work out the purpose of many articles but eventually, by cross referencing they had everything figured out.
A brief synopsis of their report follows;
Humankind lived in an almost constant state of war. Can you believe this, they actually killed each other for money, land and over religion?
Money, a strange abstract concept, was the source of much grief and led to a great deal of unhappiness.
They didn’t share as we do; one percent of the population owned, contolled and held power over ninety nine percent of Gaia’s resources and people.
They raped and polluted Gaia with incredulous stupidity, slowly killing the planet for short-term gain, see money.
They transported themselves around the planet in cars, aircraft and ships using non renewable fuel taken from Gaia, adding to environmental damage and pollution. A strange and absurd situation. Albeit, they didn’t have our powers of mental projection travel, levitation, and psychokinesis.
As a light aside, we found one object that rather tickled us. They were obsessed with a device called a ‘mobile phone’. By the use of electromagnetic waves they could talk to others from far away, odd behaviou, but then they didn’t have our telepathic ability. The funny thing is they became so complex people didn’t seem to be able to live without them. Not content with one, they had a fascination with developing these things further and craved the next newest phone. Remarkable. And get this, one of the most common uses was something called a ‘selfie’, a photograph of the owner of the device. We found these items in a city which must have housed millions of people, didn’t they have any friends?
The final summary told how it was an interesting venture but they reburied the city, there was nothing they could learn from this primitive race.

The Daily Post

Two Paths, One Choice – a fantasy

My novel was half complete and bearing heavily on me after six hours of non-stop writing, I needed a break. As I stepped outside, the cool, fresh evening air hit me; it felt good as I drew in lungfuls, breathing in its life force. The moon was full and the skies clear, perforated by a trillion stars. I began to walk and my niggling headache subsided.

I passed neighbouring houses, most with lights ablaze and pondered the lives being enacted within; always the prerogative of a writer to imagine and create from what he sees. My thoughts reached out and expanded to the street, the town, the country, the heavens and all of creation. I felt dizzy, intoxicated by the infinite.

I needed nature, the peace and strength of trees, so headed to the nearby woodland; a regular walking place day or night.

The creaking boughs welcomed me into their embrace, the moon sparkled through the branches and the wind played with the leaves. I stood still, deep in the wood, absorbing the relentless energy; then a strange feeling came over me.

I felt as though I were being transported in my mind, seeing deeper, further than ever before. My mind flew high over the trees, surveying a wondrous expanse of countryside with ocean beyond, all too brief – I was plunged back into reality.

A new sound grasped my attention, a chanting, then a light. A small fire burned nearby, from where the voice emanated. Curious, I moved to see more.

A woman, old and dressed in black, was drawing the flames towards her, I was compelled to draw closer. She was pulling me into her circle.

The woman looked up, sensing my approach long before she could possibly see me, she beckoned.

“Come near, friend,” she said.

I obeyed.

“You are looking for something, your future. I see you, all of you.”

I was uncomfortable with her penetrating gaze and slow, intimidating tone.

“Do not be afraid.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is not important. I am what you might call a witch. I can give you what you want.”

At what cost, I thought.

“No cost, unless you make the wrong choice.”

I hadn’t spoken.

“You are perplexed. You write, great words, oh yes. But you wonder where it will lead. Correct?”

“Um, yes, I guess so.”

“I can give you success, I can bestow fame and glory upon you. Or I can give you truth.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“Simple. You have two choices. To be a writer of popular fiction, through which you will gain fame and riches. Or, to be true to your art, to write from your soul, not caring for profit or renown. To go down in history as a literary genius. Your choice. Decide now and I will give. Or spend years wondering what to do.”

I thought long and hard, what was she offering? Success on one hand, struggle on the other. In my heart I knew the answer, it had to be for truth and beauty. I was compelled to give a response.

“I choose art.”

“Very well, it is yours.”

“Why are you doing this? There has to be a catch, a price.”

“No, friend. I owe a debt to your great-grandmother. She saved me from persecution, many, many years ago. In return I promised to help her great-grandson, you, to achieve great rewards as a writer. Just as your mother did.”

“But I’ve chosen the path of hardship!”

“Is that what you think? Go and write your heart out. If you do that you will reap untold rewards, people will love your work, you will be famous.”

“But I thought that was the reward for the other path?”

“Did you? Write your truth. I can say no more, the promise is fulfilled. You will see. Now go.”

The witch disappeared, vanishing into the flames which died immediately. I stayed a while in that place, until I knew the truth, for the first time, of who my mother really was.

The Daily Post