I WOULD have been as great as George Eliot

Then John Slack, the rich druggist, wooed me,
Luring me with the promise of leisure for my novel,
And I married him, giving birth to eight children, 10
And had no time to write.

Ending Comments on the SpoonRiver of Houses

The walls would cry out against us a frightening thing. I was terrified. It must be true because the person telling it was a grown up man and why would he lie about this?

Fiction Friday – Crack House

Sometimes a lower form would come in, these kind used heroine a whole different kind of beast. The crack users thought themselves above the heroine users and two the two never mixed for long.