My father died in the summer of 1984. At least, it was some time around then. There was no funeral. No grave. It was like nobody really noticed. My brother and I went to school that day, and the day after. Our father died on a rainy night in Sydney, and took his own body, … More Daddy’s Little Secret
The Earth, she has her own rites for the making of Earthlings, for the making of Good Women. In an Age where the precious cargo of our inheritance of story is confused, is under assault from the pornography of the market, the rage of the war machine and the dry tongues of our own despair, … More Beautifully, broken – the special damage of a Good Woman.
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Passionfruitcowgirl 