The bike, the chair, the Sister, assorted accoutrements, and a dog named Trail: these will be the contents of our convoy in a mere handful of hours.
Years ago she moved away. I hope she’s found what she needs, because what I really need is her, within sharing-a-beer distance.
My best friend is coming home.
Friday, October 4, 2013
|Image credit: This is kind of gross.|
“Strength,” I said, “is an earthly monster.”
* * * * *
FFF-55 Vol. LX. Tell a story in exactly fifty-five words. Go see G-Man. An ode to Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Artist of the Beautiful, a short story that changed my life. (Also relevent: A Life Without Beauty.)
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
There is a light, some days, that I follow. Hope doesn't necessarily lift me, but seems to clear the waters, keeping alive a dream that I will emerge, in time, a Better Man. I know my foundation is true, but I doubt my course, and fear for my future, and given the example I’m setting, the futures of those I love.
I know it is not for naught, but I mourn the lost days, knowing when I finally stand free I’ll wish I’d acted years earlier. If only I knew what to do, I might even do it today. If only… but these chains are hard to break, especially considering I still have yet to understand them. Link by link, I must get through it. I owe this to myself and the people I love.