Blowin’ in The Wind


Even the blank page gets in on the fun. Write here, one says. No, start on me, entices another. Fickle pages, how they flirt, each desiring to be the chosen one, to have their lines sown with inky words. I can’t decide. I’ll let the wind choose: whichever way it blows me, that’s the way I’ll go.

By David Klein

David Klein

Published novelist, creative writer, journalist, avid reader, discriminating screen watcher.


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