Bitter the cold, the night. Banking on faith, His pride. A Michigan winter. Deep in the pines. A wounded moose, the prize. A race against time. Long years have passed. Still, this will be a climb. Eyelids flicker, then settle. A deep sleep. A dream, unforced. His mind races. The Wolf, with a pack. A pack, with the Wolf.Continue reading “THE LONE WOLF by Nick Arndt”
THE FLOW STATE 