I lost access to parts of my original website. I had to start over so I named this 'Remnant'. A different aspect of what I have created emerged. I wrote a few things down that were nagging to be written. Stories of the storm are memories of times in my life that I can vividly remember. I was being introduced to a state of mind. My truth. The wishmaker is about the day I met a genie. The cloth that carries the stain, edges waxed a perfect square of dirty white fabric like a flag of surrender. Left at my door after I heard a horn blow.
...time can erode the facade, making available the foundation on which something is built. I remember a dream I had years ago that ended with me standing looking into a beautiful garden. A gardener inside seemed to be unaware I was standing outside wanting to come in. The doorway I had just passed through closed and there was no door knob. The gardener turned away from me. I turned away from him to see a path of dirt, and the rigid angular structures of the man made world. The dream remains vivid in my mind, I've only mentioned part of it.
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