Lobo’s Got a New Ride

Sirens howl in the December morning frosty air the pale haze of cold morning dew. The coffee pot drips the house back into life out of the deep winter slumber. What a good time to sleep she heard him say, but she wasn’t sure if it was she who said it first. The burst came later upon the reflections of a future not yet arrived, a direction she can’t see. She thinks it will ...

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Unveilings 18: 7-12

Daytime, nighttime, all the time is a time to be, to be seen, to care to be. To leave oneself inside oneself and never deny yourself that being. Seeing is believing, they say, but I can’t see a good reason to believe the good is good anymore. Moments before the fall, they say, a deliverance unto man, they say. But hey who are we to know what’s best for ourselves, our welfare...

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