an old writer and his words

  • FREEZE FRAME

    When you see a photograph of a dropof water hitting a still pond, you realizethat it is nothing at all like what you see. The photo freezes time, and that is whywe are so taken, for we want nothing morethan to slow or stop that unerring arrow for we know all too well where its…

    Lou Faber

  • FROZEN

    At 4:53 this morning, all of the clocks stopped. Time simply froze although we kept moving, going on with our lives. But time ceased to matter at all. That was fine with us. For the first time in memory, we did not grow older, for no time had passed. It was a strange feeling, one…

    Lou Faber

  • POLI SCIENCE

    She isn’t used to the cold, she never will be, and she hates it with the sort of passion she once reserved for people of a different political philosophy than hers. She grew up here, but she left. She has never regretted the departure. She visits only in late spring or in the heart of…

    Lou Faber