An explosion smashes into me; the world becomes fuzzy and blips to black. Then the lights come back on. But the world has changed. I am no longer on a street corner trying to hail a taxi. I am alone on open, empty land I don’t recognise. A gentle breeze brings distant singing, but I…
May 7, 1824. Beethoven wakes up, always at the same time. His head is heavy. It feels like red wine from yesterday evening is still swirling about inside him. He struggles out of bed, opens the window and looks out. Yes, the bells are swinging back and forth, yes, he cannot hear them. He remembers…
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.
Gerry Roberts 
Recent Comments