Tag Archives: Ian C. Williams

I didn’t read until my twenties       not really—       I didn’t know to drink words like a broth. Telling myself       I didn’t have time, I was too       busy slaying invisible armies with chestnut branches.       By sixteen, branches had dwindled to       pencils—I … Continue reading →

“When Geppetto saw those two wooden eyes looking at him, he did not like it at all, and he said angrily, ‘Naughty wooden eyes, why are you staring at me?’ But no one answered.” Trees don’t speak, not in whispers, … Continue reading →