Personal Journey

Don’t Forget: The Bird Died

Death makes you think things. Like, even if you're beautiful and cerulean-flashy and you have wings, your end will come. Beauty won't stave the grim reaper, much as we'd like to believe. Still, I always thought a pair of wings would be super. That way, when life got dicey, I could just fly away. Hawks… Continue reading Don’t Forget: The Bird Died

Personal Journey

Fiction, a Confession

The beauty of fiction is that you can say all the things you wanted to say, then shrug and tell people, It's fiction. It's like being in the confessional booth with a stuffed bear. Father, forgive me. I put a saber between the ribs of my neighbor's hound dog for defecating on my lawn today.… Continue reading Fiction, a Confession