Micah Park Biffle

Our Understanding is Lacking  As I look out into the dreary streets of this city beneath the over hang of an abandoned market; while watching strangers pass by. I think to myself how strange it is, how amazing, how humbling it is. To realize that each person passing by, young or old. Each has a story, each has a perspective, each has suffering, struggles, and joy. Each living in the known and the unknown. These city streets, though I dread their congested momentum and their consent need to be connected in everything. I have a sympathy for it all, for us, I have no pity, but I have great sympathy. For we all have our paths, our heartaches, our lessons, our failures. Some of us start off worse than others, some are born in poverty and know the dreadful aching of hunger. Of worrying if food will be available today. While others, may be born of great wealth, knowing not the pains of hunger or shelter. But knowing  the lack of love, of affection from themselves and othe...

An Ignorance of Two  The water is as still as ice and gleams with a pearl blue as quiet ripples orchestrate off the small boat. Both passengers, Edgar and Rye look to each other for reassurance. They have been traveling for three months, over coming treacherous storms, facing monstrous beasts, and thwarting the illusionists of magic. They are exhausted beyond belief, they have very little rations and are running low on water as well. They look toward the path of their boat, but dense fog hugs the brisk air. Looking out into the unpredictable path, Edgar places down his paddle and moves behind Rye and reaches into his bag and pulls out a small old brass telescope. He expands it and places it to his right eye. Rye picks up the other paddle and continues to stroke. An eerie silence fills the air, all that can be heard is the paddles splashing against the water. As they slowly coast through the still enchantment, a sudden look of surprise spreads across Edgar's face. He remov...