There's a lot of stuff growing in The Land, but you've got to be a writer to see it all. We push a selection out to a superfeed for public viewership. The rest — along with replies and revisions — is workshop material.
A croaking crow marked 6:45 in the A.M. sharp. Fred’s eyes snapped open and he smiled. It was his usual expression and he wore it almost continuously. He arose, shaved, showered and . . . it goes on – however, this piece is for writers.