An arid easterly breeze rustles sleeping giants who awaken sluggishly afoot like terra cotta soldiers "(yawn) Morning Bob..." "...It's evening Fred" "Is that a new scent?" "...Runs in the genes humans use it to make essential oils. Who's on watch tonight?" "Tony the new guy, moved in thirty years ago." … Continue reading Eucalyptus Parlay
Author: Nick Saba
I'm a writer who practices ultrasound. Poetry is my passion, and Irony is my best friend. On my free time I take pictures of people's organs to help radiologists make diagnoses.