by Richard M. Ankers I created her from the cracks in my psyche, those deepest, darkest places. She took time, craft, composure, and a spade, but since losing… I had time aplenty. I moulded her limbs from liquid porcelain poured into such exquisite casts as to demean an angel, fired them with my heart and cooled them with my soul. Her body was of a metal alloy, the sort to never rust, never yield. But it was her face that … Continue reading The Human in Me