The Unpolished Perspective

Cool wind flowed over my face, rushing through my hair. I was cycling home along the back road that split the old pine forest down the centre. I loved this ride. The smell of the sweet, citrus pines loaded my nostrils. The airflow and the strong pine scents induced a…

Nobody knew where he’d came from or how old he was. Some people joked he was a hundred years old but I think it was more like ninety though his features didn’t show it. His face was smooth, like sand with deep grooves cutting it up into sections. He was…

I was outside on the garden patio sitting in a rudimentary metal chair in quiet contemplation. The feeling of serenity coursed through my neural pathways. I was at one with myself and the world in which I was inextricably connected. My right hand sat in my left palm…