A strange sensation shatters my illusion of protection.
A lump… surgery, and again I’m safe, but less of me today than yesterday.
Flesh heals. My mind wanders. I consider wings.
How many feathers can fall before the bird follows?
My destination still awaits. I’m arriving one piece at a time.
Through pencil and pulp, Mike Keyser shares his best pieces.
Thank you, Paul.
Beautiful release of pathos; excellent analogy in a question.
Thank you, JD.
Beautiful imagery…touching.