With Feathers
I’ve stopped typing as much. Or at all. I think I’ve stopped talking as well. I say platitudes. I am anesthetized with social media and watching war tragedy on a small screen. I see women abused. Children neglected. And again I know in two days I will hear “happy Monday” like a lollypop given after an injection. Does it feel sometimes like no one is honest? Yes. Or that drops of honesty have…



















