La lista de los libros y ayer

Yes, I'm starting a list of books that I have read from last month on.

Here it is:

1. The Comming Plague
2. Tathea
3. Phineas Gage; A Gruesome but True Story About Brain Science
4. A Graveyard for Lunatics
5. One for the Road

What I'm reading now: And the Band Played On

Yesterday I was hanging out with an old friend who unknowingly put things into perspective for me. He was merely trying to eat as much "free food" as possible and somehow impressed upon me how long ago all that stuff with Batin was. I feel less hunted by my past and moreover, that I made good decisions. I am also auspiciously dating a really great guy.
Do I deserve this?
Hell no.

"Without waiting and cost, there would no longer be the sublime gift of sacrifice, which is the greatest love."-Tathea, Anne Perry

Short Story: Distraction

It was an office, not unlike any of the other offices around the city. There were windows, visible to the lucky few cubes on the ends of the rows. Then there was Vera's cube, situated next to the row of manager's offices. Today she was lucky, someone had left their door open and precious slant of sunlight escaped, warming her back and washing out half of her computer screen. "I never realized your hair was red," Tracy dumped a large stack of paper on her desk, "The florescent lights make everything look so soupy." "What is that?" she pointed at the stack of paper. Tracy only offered compliments when he wanted a favor. "I need this entered," he smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "You have a secretary," Vera waved a freckled hand to her left, "Ask him." "He's sick," Tracy gave her puppy-dog eyes, batting his long dark eyelashes. Vera sighed and fought back a smile. Tracy was such a s...

Perfect Quote(s) for Valentine's Day

"Lovers in the first stages of attraction speak in harmonic dissonance-echoing and remarking on things that make no sense to anyone but their intended." -George Hagen, Tom Bedlam ********************************************************** Evira: "Yup, the lyrics really are 'Your sex is on fire.'" Agnes: "If my sex was on fire, I would hope that you would call 911."

Poem: Calling

I keep sifting sand through my fingers, not feeling the grit of you in my palms. Did you skip out to sea like a stone, each kiss of the water a nix pulling you under, or are you always stretching out beside me, your shadow lapping against mine? The tide nestles up close to the shore, its corners tucked and turned under, in the shush and pulse of the waves, your voice is calling, me to you. __________________ We took our first trip of the Spring to Carkeek Park yesterday. Even though it was cloudy, it was still overwhelmingly pretty. One of my favorite poets always starts each of his books with a poem written to the reader. I guess that's my hope, too. That you (yes, YOU) will feel that I've been reading your diary and wrote this poem to spill your secrets. Or maybe you really are the "you" in my poem. Meanwhile, in prose land, I have just posted the next chapter of The Culling, and it involves . . . an octopus...

Refracted Neurons

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