Of magic, and unseeing eyes

If eyes are a mirror into one’s soul, does anybody around me even have a soul? (Sour grin) Eyes are shifting uneasily, biased and afraid. They stare straight ahead into nothingness, preoccupied and worried, or just inert. They reflect neither joy nor interest, no spark, no life. They are tired and worn out. All those…

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When the fog creeps in

Last Saturday night, Vancouver was invaded by the most amazing fog bank I have ever seen, seemingly seeping right out of a scary movie. Of course I was stuck at work without my camera, watching helplessly as extraordinary landscapes were drawn at my feet. As soon as my shift ended, I rushed back home, grabbed…

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