feiya.Z

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I hear them trumpets way up high golden notes, deep and loyal resounding through the valleys and mountainside calling all the farmers from their toil

stencil

The lace made fringe patterns on the wall threw the shadows sideways and off balance the silhouettes danced slanted against a blank page like tentative figure skaters along the cold, hard ice

selling

I saw an old lady, toothless, with a gold glinting eye waving patchwork against the azure sky she flagged down the passerby with a bent and crooked arm beckoned with a wordless sound and her worn but useful charm they all walked past, casting stray thread glances her stitching was thin and delicate, of honey-maple handsome but her hands were old, and trembling, it has been years since she made the last stitch.

writing since 2013 · 33 entries · 33 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means fz showed up.

6longest streak

33days written

3.8entries / week

on this day 13 years ago

fz wrote about european
“His car was slick and shiny and very black prowling the city streets in a mystery searching for the tunnels and the alleys for his ways are a mystery Stranger one day, a friend the next sittin…”

the words fz reaches for

wordsalongdeepredpastfaceagainstcasteyestoodeyesheartblackbirdsmoongreen