It’s more of a vague ephemeral label, really. Reality, that is. But to be honest, it’s not entirely my fault people think I’m nuts. When I got tapped for the job as the Truth Seeker / Fact Finder / Mystery Solver, it came with the tools.
Following, an expert from an essay about hands…. my hands and all the things they do, feel touch, express, and so on. In progress, no editing. Later, my hands delved in to making jewellery. Learning to use hand tools. Slowly, learning to saw with precision a straight line, or carefully a shape from metals, never straying from the line – years of practice and dexterity to do so. Building slowly, the muscle memory to do so with precision. Holding pliers – griping tightly, and maneuvering with dexterity to accomplish tasks. The light but strong touch of holding a torch, brushing… Read More »Hands [working title]
An excerpt, from something I started yesterday, after thinking about “not having a firm grip on reality’. The first time I found there, it wasn’t on purpose. I was sleeping (presumably) and in that shifted time-space, when the realities of awake and dreaming blend ever so close together, the veil but a flimsy sheer wisp of a sheer curtain… I felt him. Felt him like the hair raising up on your arm tingly neck crawling somethings about to eat me sensation… I felt the consciousness of this other. Instantly, I understood he sensed me first, and that’s what alerted me.… Read More »Shifted Hunter [working title]
Excerpt from a draft I’m working on – short story. completely unedited from when it seeped from my brain. I’m not like the other kids here, I don’t fit in. Some days, I want to be normal, and fade in to the background where they don’t notice me, but mostly I just can’t. It’s not who I am. I guess. But when your so called parents gift with a name like Justice, you’re a target for life. The mean kids can’t help themselves, with the bullying. The verbal abuse never stops, and the physical beatings hardly ever take a break.… Read More »Justice & the sidekick [working title]
Sometimes… you go thru stuff… Stuff you don’t want to. Stuff you kick and scream and fight against. Stuff you refuse to accept…. Sometimes, life seems awfully unfair. It leaves a hole in your life. In your heart. In your soul. Sometimes, when you’re being is cracked open wide, as you exist aching and exposed; raw, and bruised…