That Saturday after tennis, the day after buying me that damn suit, Mark drove me back to his place because we had decided to drive together to the courts. “Come on upstairs,” he said. “It’s almost game time, anyways.” It was twelve. We had three…
I’ve never done a lot of things this thing demands of me. Briefly, no longer trapped in a pleasant dream, I can work a little more towards making it reality.
Thank you for reading. Stay safe out there. Stand strong. I sliced and diced myself into this current book because I was writing so fast, so there’s a lot of me in here. If you want my author’s bio, check out It’s Just Us Here , by me. You’ll get…
It’s not about quality. It’s when the pieces falling into place are all lateral moves; that’s when I know the end is near. And then when I compare what is there with what was upstairs, despair. It’s not good enough. Not by a long shot. The poem is…
Preamble Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Finale Preamble Gather ’round children, here’s what’s in store, Two-fifty years of history about a special Door, It’s a Freedom Door for a Freedom Nation, And we vow to hold it, for the next…
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