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As the wheel of time turns, times come and go, leaving memories that fade to myth, broken like shards of glass — a chorus of voices that grow louder and softer. I suppose that’s why I write psychological thrillers. The monsters within our minds are the memories…
Henya Drescher
Jenine Bsharah Baines
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Gorgeous opening, Henya!
J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself
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