calendar of wisdom
Mornings with Tolstoy – Day Eleven
By WILLIAM PRENTISS My world is obsidian; it was formerly gray splintered by veiny shafts of ochre spasmodically penetrating the unseen with countenance warming spumes of hope, now curtained in...
Mornings with Tolstoy – Day Ten
By WILLIAM PRENTISSI no longer have use for money, material possessions, or tangibles associated with not being in a presumed coma. It costs to keep me wherever Sis is keeping...
Mornings with Tolstoy – Day Seven
By WILLIAM PRENTISSI lie here only able to hear, and that unknown to others, thinking about empathy and compassion, wondering about the root of both. What compels us to feel...
Mornings with Tolstoy – Day Six
By WILLIAM PRENTISS Hours on end, thinking yet not seeing, hearing but not feeling, feeling but never expressing, this is my wakened state, unknown to none but me, and God of...