Aside

Once summer is over, something I both embrace and dread, I’ll be able to work on and post more of my own stuff.  In the meantime, I find little nuggets of nirvana and just gotta spread the love (or angst, or whatev…).  This one is like a tiny two-bite pastry … delicious, almost a swoon, just enough, setting a quiet wistful smile as the background taste for the day.  For me, anyway.  For you? … I hope so.

Granta is one of the best print and online journals of new writing out there, anywhere.  No surprise this comes from them. Don’t let the title fool you …

Requiem, by Jill Osier

Le poet petite patisserie

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