Frost turned to wet dew.
The boys could still smell burnt flesh,
though the field slept now.
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Being a synthesis of one writer's two favorite pastimes: writing and avoiding writing.
If you're good at something, never do it for free.
"Why a writing blog, Steve?"
"It's not a writing blog."
"But you're a writer."
"When a chef pours himself a bowl of cereal, is he cheffing? This isn't for real. It's a place to play. A play blog."
"What kind of writer uses the word 'cheffing'?
"The kind that has a play blog."
"It's not a writing blog."
"But you're a writer."
"When a chef pours himself a bowl of cereal, is he cheffing? This isn't for real. It's a place to play. A play blog."
"What kind of writer uses the word 'cheffing'?
"The kind that has a play blog."
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