Whoosh, whoosh...whoosh, whoosh...whoosh, whoosh. Quiet. So very still, all around me. Nothing stirring. Dark. So dense, the atmosphere. Hard to breathe. Nothing to see. Can't see. Can't hear anything. Whoosh, whoosh...whoosh, whoosh... Blood, rushing through my veins. In my head. In my ears. Hearing it. Stirring. Not stirring. No feeling. None. Arms and legs dead. Dead weight. Lifting. No lifting. Can't move. Can't move...

She gave me a spontaneous hug. Then went on pointe. We were warming up for rehearsal for our all-dance show. I was surrounded by girls. And a few young ladies. She was a young lady. She'd trained enough to be in pointe shoes. That took time and training and dedication. Silly child. I was still taller, when I went up on tiptoes in jazz shoes. I can't go on pointe. Most men don't, and especially ancient me, a novice in the...

It's often the same. I listen to music I know affects me. Really affects me. It has before and will again. And I allow it, because of the desperately needed catharsis and release. Do you understand? Oh, god. I'm shuddering in sobs once more. In shuddering sobs I play out this late night reverie. I do it to myself, and I feel a washing away. Because, you know. I really loved that person. That person who said they loved me....

"I know. I saw it." "Why didn't you say anything?" "Well, because. You get upset with me when I question you." "It's a big problem when we can't talk to each other." "Yeah, I agree. I try. You get upset with me." "I don't know what you mean." "Please, I know you're upset. I can see your face." "What do you mean." "Well, tonight. You put out the wrong insurance forms." "Yeah, I would've got it right. So?" "Okay, so I talke...

My trust. Did you betray it? Did you? I trusted you implicitly. I did. Did you betray that? I know you didn't. Because you adore me. Right? So you couldn't possibly have betrayed my trust. True? I'll continue to believe that. I'll always, forever, believe that. The doubt seeps in. It can't help but seep in. Something tells me you did. You did. Oh my god. I trusted you. I trusted you. I did. Oh my god. Okay. I'll push it a...

Michel Legrand is playing. Music from The Other Side of Midnight. Moving. Moving me to wonder if I will see her on the other side. Of midnight. I've counted the midnights as I stay up late. Waiting. Perhaps a message will appear. Perhaps not. So. No. Have to go. It's time to go to bed. Finally going to sleep, until the dawn. Dawning realization that no message has come. My confidence is ebbing. Fading away. Not today. Per...

It's hard, holding your eyes open. One drink too many, you suppose?One drink too many, my friend. But so what. It's my right. I'm of age, many times over. I'm of age. One more drink. To try and forget, block out, erase the pain. The pain of being a citizen of the world. Today. The hate and inability to accept. The differences. Each of us, a creature of evolution, and biology.Children of the earth. We are what we are. They...

With incredible dignity the dying child rises up. She looks into the eyes of the woman feeding her this last supper. Her last supper. Her body has starved. Is close to death. Her eyes are wide now. Soft tears trace down the woman's face.The girl touches one tiny finger to her cheek. Touching the moisture.No smile. No strength. Swallowing one last bit of milk-soaked bread. Her eyes close. Her mother sobs in the corner. Too...

“Your kind ain't welcome here, boy!” The man yelled as the sawed-off thundered it's deadly symphony. The dual one ounce slugs mushroomed into the young man's chest and sent him to the ground with a thump. Flesh congealing whole, body transmogrifying. The creatures clothes stretched and tore in multiple places. A blood curdling howl escaping wildly. Twelve gauge shells fell clumsily. The man took several steps backward and...

"Sing me a song!" What the hell! I was sound sleep. Trouble breathing. What time is it? Are you kidding me? Three o'clock. I get up. Go in to wash my face.I look ragged. Have to sleep.In bed again. Drifting off. Tired. "Sing me a song!" Jeez! What? Again? Okay. Fine! She likes old stuff. I sing Moon River. Quiet now. I doze. "Sing me a song!" Get up and make coffee. Got to do something. "Sing me a song!" "Shut up. Shut up...

Groaning, he slowly rose up. He couldn't move his jaw. Leaning against the brick wall he recalled the conversation. "I can't understand soldiers who get piercings." "I have a stud. Did it myself, Sarge." "What? Why would you do that, Sarge?" "It's in my right ear. For solidarity. For my gay soldiers. You know?" "Oh. I see. That can be fucking dangerous." "Sure. It's worn off base and in civvies. I don't worry." "Damn, Som...

"Haters gonna hate." "How's that?" "That's a meme or mantra nowadays. I think it came from hip hop." "Okay, so what's up?" "I'm thinking it may be true." "Probably. Sounds like it could be. Why bring it up now?" "Just thinking. It seems apropos of what's going on around here." "Well, you know, that's what haters do, by definition, right?" "Yep. It's related to how well one does something." "Probably so. Jealousy does show...

That itchy mental feeling. What is missing? What have I forgotten? I was feeling that several times the past few days. Weeks? Not really sure. But the urge to fiddle through my mind files kept coming back. A yearning, too. A real, necessary part seemed lost. So irritating. Busy. Working, and doing what needs to be done. Busy. But wondering. The thoughts keep returning. It will come, I tell myself. Something will come to m...

"It's not what it looks like," he said, glaring.Sandy came upon him as she skied cross country. It was an overcast, dreary Christmas morning."What do you mean? It looks like you killed a deer. Is it hunting season?"He went back to butchering in the blood stained snow. Grunting with his effort, he finished."It was a difficult shot. Yes, it's hunting season. Around here, anyway.""Why are you trying to hide it, then? If hunt...

One time too many. I said something. She misunderstood. Or maybe, I misunderstood. Said it wrong. Used the wrong tone. One time too many. Maybe we should just not talk. That's what she said. Fine. That's what I said. I've been trying to stop myself. I keep forgetting. Three decades. And it's come to this. Finally. The same argument, so many times. Recently, it's changed. It's different. Now there's a note. A small sticker...