So happens, there are infinitely more wrong words than right ones.
The Right Words exist for everything.
Her makeup and her hair don't match. The hair is thin, and graying through the artificial coloring. Her hairline is receding, from age and stress, from the cumulative days she's spent scraping it back, ripping the follicles from the scalp one by one. Today she's pressed it back with a band, opening the curtains on…
Writing is itchy.
What did she mean, "not a mistake"? I could see her frame trembling. What did she want? She loved him. She just said she loved him. That's it. That's the end of it. But what if..? Dammit! I thought I was done with that... that thought. What if? There was a hollow silence between us, her…
Reality was pretty damn loud this week.
The creative process begins the moment I silence reality.
This isn't a love story, and that makes finding beginnings and ends difficult. So I'm going to start right here, somewhere in the middle, today, with the girl I'm waiting for and the secret she could have told me yesterday. She should have told me three weeks ago, or on any one of those chilled January walks,…
Depressed but not defective.
Ever think about all the people you will never get to meet?