Dear Stranger, I’m reading that book again.. Not because I’ve forgotten it, but because it won’t let me forget myself..
Tonight, the moon is whole..Dressed in red.. Not out of anger, but emotion.. It stands high and silent, like a
Opening PO BOX 49 this week, I found journeys folded into paper, postcards that felt like little windows opening to
September.. For me here in Greece, it is never just another page on the calendar.. It is the beginning.. I
In the Golden Fields of the End The light was falling low, not shining, but glinting like a promise.. Rose
There are places that feel as if they’ve been left behind in time.. Somewhere in the 1980s.. Signs faded by
(..for the things that cannot be said, but still pull you toward them..) The house had endured too much.. Absence..
No one knew exactly how it began.. Only that suddenly, the cards were everywhere.. They fell from the rooftop, burst
(.. The Friendship Before Time) The house had gone silent.. Not out of fear, but awe.. For the first time,
(.. And the Sword That Remembered) The piano room hadn’t been opened in years.. Dust covered the keys like ash
(The Library Awakens) Some said Talitha and Paul’s house was haunted.. Not by ghosts, but by unfinished words.. By goodbyes
The Ones Who Never Give Up On August mornings, when the sun rises heavy and the heat burns everything, the
Today the weather feels more like September, even if the calendar insists it is still August..In the morning, I wake
Everything is closed today. Not just the shops..Not just the post office..Not just the box number 49 that was supposed
Sometimes, the quietest stories live in the smallest corners of life, in the way sunlight rests on a doorstep, in
PO BOX 49 – Postcard Explosion! Good morning! Today I opened my PO Box and, BOOM! .. It was a
Dear Stranger, This past Saturday, a kind invitation from my former “schoolmate” Ioanna led me to the town of Lavrio,
August always takes me by the hand and brings me back to my own sea..Not a famous beach, not an
There were nights when Paul no longer fit inside his own body.. When the air felt too narrow, and the
Time does not pass the way clocks insist it does.. It passes through eyes that change.. And in Paul’s eyes,
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