Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
Monday, May 4, 2015
His voice lofts across the street on the warm, fragrant breeze. "Just come home, okay?" he says into his cell as he paces back and froth under the streetlight. "I made it really nice for you, you know? Just, please, come on home."