Monday, January 15, 2018

learning to change

Like a mangy beast, the MS shifts and growls as I comb the knot's out of its fur, careful around the wounds. Pick fleas and crush them with my teeth. Soothe. Smooth, but leave it wild and living, uncivilized, uncultured.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Blood on the pages

Sometime in the night, this happened.

When was the last time you read a book that kept you up too late, made you laugh, made you sweat and made you say "NOW WHAT?" and made you sad when the ride was finally over?

Me neither. That's what I'm writing.