Valiant Scribe
A literary hub giving voice to the voiceless by retelling the human experience

Sometimes, magic requires distance; it tends to vanish as you get closer (or older). 

sitting in this soft world to listen my senses draw inward bringing a blanket of quiet under a night sky...

Old age does have its perks. I don’t have to take off my shoes going through security when I fly.

“If there is no God, what is left?” he interrogated himself.  He stood motionless in a warm, dry wind, felt himself falling into an eternity

There is no justice that can be bought, no time that can be spared. Words spoken incoherently, scatter in the wind.

We had barely entered the month of December when the Christmas lights went up in my new neighborhood. But it was the cheerful Christmas...