“All colors made me happy even grey.” Nabokov, Pale Fire
A German carpenter by day working hard to follow a Jewish carpenter, exploring writing as a creative outlet. Passionate about learning through practice and observation.
Fifty words hardly seems a story.
At 57 I’m over by seven,
trying to write an ending
appropriate to the characters.
This life made movie
where happily ever after
is six feet below dirt—
fodder for red roses to bloom
with thorns that cut deep enough
to match.
How poetically-perfectly you always execute just what you think, makes me feel I’m reading one of the greats.
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BB Grey--musings 
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