#wordcraft
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By: JD Devine From sunup to sundown, he remained tethered to his desk, fingers pounding away at a keyboard, helping build someone else’s dream. His heart ached for something greater, something beyond the tedious routine that had become his existence. But freedom felt like a distant myth, a story told to children who hadn’t yet
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By: JD Devine Through the gap in the yellow lace curtains, I watch Mr. Hayes arrange his miniature soldiers every Tuesday morning. Each tin warrior stands at attention, their bayonets gleaming like silver needles. He positions them on his combat map. The parlor is a museum suspended in time. Sepia photographs in tarnished brass frames
JD Devine 