drmstream[writing]

Detec­tive Sun­der­son walked back­ward on the beach glanc­ing around now and then to make sure he wasn’t going to trip over a piece of drift­wood. The wind out of the north­west had to be over fifty knots and the blow­ing sand stung his face and grated his eyes. It was below freez­ing and the surf […]

I am not a writer. I am not good enough to be a writer. I don’t have what it takes to be a writer. I want to be a writer. I am not an artist. I want to feel like an artist. I can remem­ber what it felt like to try to write, before I […]