Semi-Daily Scribbles

A star is worth less than it once was, but each night the sky is studded with more and more. It's become difficult to spot the constellations with all that sparkle and shine. No one would blame the heavens if a few sputtering sparks were discarded from time to time. Breathing room is good for everyone. Just ask the wallflower who stepped out of the background, or the cicada that left his burden tied to a fence post. There are worlds filled with fantastic stories that dwell in uncomfortable pauses and gaps. Why are we frightened of empty spaces? Must every blank be…?