Sylvie Loy

We were a small procession of a few men and women rowing out to sea. Huddled in a fragile skiff, we floated on the waves. After passing the lighthouse, by general consent we had set a course for ... [+]

Facebook, inbox (private messaging) of Chris Stabler.
Conversation begun Tuesday 14/01/2014

Tracy Lucas, 3.06 pm
Hi Chris! I haven’t been on Facebook very long. And I’ve found you! ... [+]

My father used to say that butterflies only landed on the prettiest flowers. And on people who possessed a beautiful soul.
When I was a child, butterflies often used to land on me. And that made ... [+]

I was young. Between childhood and an adolescence. The innocence of my feelings was fighting with romantic ambition. I was in love with her. She knew it and played on it. Inevitably. Long, languorous ... [+]

“There you go! Start here. The road’s straight and flat. There’s nobody here either, it’s nice and quiet, and no children. No traffic either, it’s Sunday.”

That spring Sunday in ... [+]