There was no day to rest from the pandemic and then war came knocking on the door.
If you are gone, why is there something still here?
Is it too late?
Folded in half and gently placed on the stoop, that lager sent from heaven that quenched my thirst on that sunny wintery day.
Behind door number 4: a cigarette break!
FlexDesk
Dance like nobody is watching!
A life of sketches
