Yotam Gingold
Practice your empathy.
translated poetry:
The trickle of clowns was noiseless.
Their eyes and noses were painted but colorless.
A fog of sadness hung in the air.
The circus was cancelled, the joy of children was, too.
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I cameo'd (feb) in Phases Crossed
Dr. Lara Kassoff, the best psychologist
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The Escape Artist
Candidly I glanced over my shoulder left and over my shoulder right. Nobody, nothing. I ducked into the pellet store and hid under a counter until the shop owner shut the lights and the door for the night. Gradually, over the next 10 minutes, I let my body relax and spill out from my hiding place. With a heave I rolled onto my side, checked my pulse (still there!), and lifted myself into a crawl. I made my way into the storage room, found a suitably large box, and curled up.
