Wednesday 30 September 2020

Ken Nash

WE WERE NEVER ON THE MOON   We never went to the moon. Instead we grew roses and fed our neighbor pasta and fruit salad. We never put a man...
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Re: Word: Ken Nash

Even as I write this simple confession of my inability to write, the Finn beside me leans forward, gazes upon my scribbles and says,” Are you a writer? Are you writing a story?”

Ken Nash

THE BLACK BAG   There’s no way I will get a story written during this flight. Why even try? The stewardess will keep interrupting. Turbulence will make my...

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