An old flower withers on the tide. She watches through a window, her thoughts somewhere, a bleak landscape, an overcast sky. Some will see the eastern tides, only once in…

Departing suns last vestiges of your warmth and glow, casting pictures on tall structures of glass, hues of golden yellow imparting to me to say another day, for tomorrow is…

Learning and teaching in this mythical world is different from ours, yes books exist, in fact numbers of books that can out number any library or bookstore in our world.…