The Infinite Starr

writers perspective

  • Confessions of a Writer

    The heat had already settled over Texas before noon. Not the kind of heat that asked permission. The kind that wrapped itself around your shoulders, settled into your skin, and reminded you that July had arrived exactly when it intended to. Fresh-cut grass drifted lazily through the afternoon air, mixing with the scent of warm…

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  • The Mirror Doesn’t Care Who Cries in Front of It

    Some people get angry when my name is spoken. Others get quiet. Others laugh because they finally understand the joke. And then there is me. Sitting somewhere in the middle of the chaos laughing when certain names are spoken because life has a dark sense of humor once you survive enough of it. That is…

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