April 11th, 2006



Stomach completed its rebellion last night, in two battles. I think that means I won, because I'm still standing.

Feel much betterer today, but still somewhat Off, at least in part due to not taking any medicine last night - would be a waste of pills, because they wouldn't have remained there long enough to be digested. Deb has the bug now, which should teach her a lesson about lecturing me about how I always get sick when someone else is, but it won't. It's not like I chose to get sick, or anything.

Another early reminder, the first for those who don't read LJ on weekends - I'll be at the Poetry Circle at the Moravian Book Shop this Friday at 7:00pm. Be sure to stop by and listen in, or bring some of your own work or that of your favorite poet and join in the reading.


By Everett A Warren
September 27, 2003

There is darkness, and it is all I can see.

These were his thoughts, his very being. Chaos, is it? Or worse, well ordered, everything like so and this organized like that. How long had he been like this? What had brought him to these ends? A true extension into the feared and fearful, he was, and no mistake. Each step unknowing, each look uncaring.

"Dear god," he said to himself, de-emphasising God in his distance and disbelief. He clenched his teeth, gripped the rail tighter and peered over the gulf into the dark waters below. "How they turn and roil, calling for me..." A foot, upon the lowest brace of the fence. And he could move no further.

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Copyright (c) 2003 Everett Ambrose Warren