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Unexpected Prose
[Sometimes a story mixes with life and becomes something else entirely. This excerpt from a story writing session might be something like that. But in the end, all stories are about the human spirit. Here’s a piece of mine.] I can’t hear myself think. I feel a deep dull thudding in my brain as if the machinery was jammed and trying to roll past something blocked, something broken. A metallic boom down in the bowels of my mind. Whose words are these? The questions of a questioner go unanswered. Where is the spark of my soul? Nothing is missing. There is no menacing evil within and yet fear fills my…
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The Space Below Sadness
This week was hard. This week was bad. This week I had to face people in pain. People that I usually share In’n’Out fries with while shouting obscenities at the 49ers. People that I’ve been more than a little drunk-off-my-ass-and-still-got-home-safe with. People that have made a significant impact in my life. And now, they hurt. Their families hurt. Their reality hurts. Their world hurts. And I don’t know what to do. You see, I’m horrible at watching pain. Forget Hollywood movies and all that namby-pamby bullshit. It’s the real deal I’m talking about here. The kind of pain where they might have to crack open your chest to save you…
