Although chronologically middle-aged, I still feel like a youth except on those mornings when time, temperature and joints more used to sitting and typing than running, walking or just moving remind me I have been around a while; then I'm about 432.
At the foot of Pikes Peak, in the shadow of its usually snow-covered shoulders visible from my bedroom window, J. M. Cornwell writes while looking out over the abandoned-appearing back yard on the other side of a weather beaten, snaggle-toothed fence. While she dreams, she transcribes those dreams into words.
- Colorado Springs, Colorado
- JoinedJuly 7, 2014
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Stories by JM Cornwell
- 3 Published Stories
What Is It Worth?
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Who owes whom? Are employers cutting off their corporates noses to spite their corporate faces? Or has person...
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