Assorted photos from a few museums, a few textures from the city, a nature landmark.

As I wrap my self around you, behind you, giving to you my warmth, my love, my love, so does God wrap Her Self around us, giving She, for She is love loving love.

It, it-it-it, it is determinance, an unshakable, infallible certainty of occurrence—that it not only has been decided but that in deciding it has been determined.

Do what the trainer doeth, think what the trainer thinketh, fear what the trainer feareth, before damns make trainers damneth.

I write this in a Richmond airport, in the supreme void state, after a training.

The scene was a reclaimed Highlander home of 100 years, owner to a reverend called the Shepherd of the Hills, whose house now makes a dining room and restaurant for the retired well-to-do.

There in suburbia, backed up against a neighborhood nature park, that plot of land indemnified per the ordinance of the city's new incorporation, a field sluiced by a creek ...

And beneath the chair lied planks, which became the almost-tan deck. Almost tan because of the still-rising sun, which seemed to melt the chair's plastic into the floor, but in fact was just casting a shadow.

Monica feared the worst for her child after her husband, Frank — who had no hair, no muscle, and no window in his room at the office — impregnated her. This balding man without ability and aspiration would ruin her child. He made good money...