on the way home, on my couch, a mystery, a gaping hole through which i stepped. it seemed that science or nature, a combination, a conspiracy, had coalesced, had concocted a plan. i felt it like a large mantis over my shoulder, in the sky, hovering. the thought or idea of it, deciding. something with claws pondering my plight. what happens in that brain, insect the size of a 4-story Macy's with a bargain basement, escalators running up and down between? myths, plans, stratagems, diadems. i'm ordinary; i ordinate myself.
I write short stories. This is my blog. I'm going to write whatever.