David Condell

Don’t be afraid; and never yield to hate,whilst knowing love, appearing so pristine,contrasted to a thing as desolateas death, that faker some men think supreme,as if it were the arbiter of time.When trapped, I feel all enmity and loss,and disillusion like a nauseous crimeagainst the . . . . Continue Reading »

(As in the movies, when the traffic swerves and skids to miss the hero in its way . . .) He toddled through the cars as if to play a game of chicken with his mother’s nerves. She wept to see him standing there, across the other side, her perfect smiling boy. All rosy-cheeked with death-defying . . . . Continue Reading »