Pilar Loo

“wild rose roots dream the bees
what does the baby see”
― John C. Waugh, busted haiku

“He’s soaked. Rain clings to his clothes, his hair darkened and dripping, his breath shallow like he ran the whole way here. His eyes meet mine—raw, searching. And I swear, for one fragile second, the rest of the world disappears.”
― Tricia Newlan, Echoes of One Night: Forbidden Love Romance

“That Santanello had also made a life-long decision to literally erase his art, and in essence himself, from the world of art also struck Armand hard.”
― Rich DiSilvio, The Arnolfini Art Mysteries

“His candle began to flicker rhythmically as if someone blew on it from a distance.”
― Susan Rowland, The Swan Lake Murders