Night was coming on fast by the time I reached the mountain crest. The gentle winds carried the scent of decay and the swaying vegetation, what little there was, was stunted and dry. The old faun was near the mouth of a cave, resting in the growing shadows. I tipped my hat. "Nice place."
Thursday, October 1, 2020
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Nadine
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This is an old drawing, done in 2003. Kathy and I recently had an occasion to look at some of my old pieces and she mentioned she liked this...
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I casually tipped my cap to him as we passed each other on the narrow path in the woods. He smiled and whispered, "When I was young I e...