Welcome. Anonymous Author holds a mirror to the face of humanity, asking what it really means to be human,
and in doing so blurs the line between what is good and bad writing.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Fruits.
Floating in the harbour, I turned and looked back to land beyond the beach, the trees and the shelter of the hills. A thunderstorm rumbled its way towards the open sea. This was one of those moments when a life harvests the fruits that nature has stored.
