Tales of a Tattler

 Some stories begin not with events, but with the uneasy realization that meaning is never as stable as it appears. This piece was written as part of a creative writing course as an experimental exercise, and it sits outside my usual genre and style.    The Poison and its Antidote  - Part 1 is a tale that moves through shifting perceptions and emotional undercurrents, where truth is less declared than inferred, and every certainty carries its own quiet doubt.

  Sometimes a line arrives long before its meaning does. I wrote this poem years ago, without much intention beyond following an unsettling image to its end. Looking back at it now, I find myself drawn less to the idea of poison itself, and more to the forms it chooses to wear: beauty, softness, charm, even familiarity. This remains one of the more unusual themes I’ve explored, which perhaps explains why it stayed with me for so long.

  Change is the only constant. One day we are crawling; the next, we are running freely across a field of grass. We let go of things we once found comfort in and find ourselves embracing paths we never imagined we would take.    Life, however, is not defined by what we gain or lose. It is about learning how to rise, steady ourselves, and dance to life’s ever-changing rhythm.    The Ninth Night is a short story about a woman learning to tune her steps to that rhythm; meeting life, its challenges, and its transformations with grace.

  Nothing in life endures by being seen: the tide advances and withdraws without memory or regard, light fades, footprints vanish, names lose their meanings, and what once felt grand persists only as residue.   Unanchored is a poem attentive to the slow erasure of motion, as grandeur lingers briefly in recollection before yielding to stillness.