I have this desire to write a novel or two (or three), but it has always seemed to be a difficult pursuit. Maybe someday this section will contain something noteworthy. For now it just contains some random short brain dumps…
Chapter 1 The car, SUV, or whatever it was once was, lay on its side as if it had been a mound of dough slapped flat by callused hands then thrown against a concrete pillar. The pillar was real and seemingly unscathed—still standing proudly helping support the platform above it. But the vehicle—whatever sort it […]
Worst Case Scenario Read More »
Chapter 1 Someone told me that I should write down my thoughts. They said that it was something that would help me organize all the shouting voices in my head. Honestly, I don’t really see the use in that. I like my shouting to be confused. At least then it makes sense. Otherwise it’s like some media-envisioned
My Therapist Told Me to Write Read More »
I: Death She stood above me at the top of a long, plush staircase—each stair padded with a thin layer of foam and encased in a red velvet shell—holding the spiritual implement of my death in her sticky, blood-stained hands. Her yellow shirt was paired with white shorts, white knee socks, white shoes, and a
I cried that evening when we parted; she slipping silently into the comforting cloak of darkness while I drove away into the night bound for my empty shell of a home filled with no one and no thing except meaningless material possessions. I could still feel her presence beside me even after she left. She
Voices were ringing in my head—Fragments of conversations; photographs of peoples’ lives.Small tidbits of information invaded my essencethen became lost in this massive melting pot of humanity.It has gotten to the point where my own identity is foreign to me.Do I have an identity, or am I just a receptacle—a shellwithin which people throw bits
