The Road in Front Of

The fifth post I published (#5 out of 87) on this now one year and eight month fiction, nonfiction, and poetic blogging journey of mine was titled The Aged and theĀ Ageless (feel free to click and read). It was posted a couple of months before Covid became a global issue. Since then, as well as …

Our Hour

Remember when you scraped your knee as a kid? Hit the 'not so funny' bone on your elbow as an adolescent? Delivered a paper cut to your finger as an adult? Had your heart broken, like blind sided shattered, not the type of break when you keep taking back the same waste of time that …

The Last Time

I remember her and I know she remembers me and we will continue to do so forever. There is no other way for us to live. I could try to forget her or her me, but I know I will fail so what am I to do except breathe and curse the air that continues …

Dear Diary,

Is this where I have to run so I can be completely honest with myself? Do I have to fluff my three pillows and down comforter and lay my body between the world and the unwashed sheets of the paper bed that I call my journal? Is this where I can sincerely share my thoughts …

Why Ask Why?

My second born son - where do I begin? He was delivered to us some time ago, a forever that was only yesterday, by cesarian section. The day before his arrival, I remember the phone call I received from my wife while I was at work. She went for a weekly check up because the …

Miss. Behave Ing

Hearing the scratching (We are the floor we feel,) of finger nailing the backing, (our unfrozen terrain remains unfrayed) while smelling the necking (as we explore the sacred friction of now.) and rubbing the skinning. Listening to the whispering (We slay the nights unseen) of lipping the lobing, (into tiny slices of salty slumber,) while …