I want to write a book someday.  Because books are freaking awesome!!!


I couldn’t leave it like that.  It was all wrong and I could feel him staring at me in disappointment.

“No,” he says, shaking his head.  “That’s not how it happened.”  Standing he begins to prowl the room.  His energy frantic.  “Begin again.”  His voice so hoarse and thick, I feel the madness to surrender all my secrets.  “This time, tell the truth.  Start from the beginning.”  The hard angle of his jaw, a complete contradiction to the softness of his lips.  Somehow I had to go back, and remember it all over again.  He insists its never right.

This demon tortures me so.  He punishes me, and until I remember it exactly the way he remembers it, we’ll be locked here.  I’ll never remember it the way he does.  I’ll never know what he felt and saw and tasted.  I’ll never know.  I’ll never win this game.

Staring out the window I don’t see the birds gliding on the breeze.  I don’t see the sunshine casting long shadows.  Its descent barely registered as I progressed back in time.  I went all the way back, to that time.  I can’t get it just right because I’m changed.  I’m more now.  Its not as simple as it once was.

I start walking this footpath I’ve worn into my memories.  Its worn and bare here, where I continuously walk.  The other trails are faint.  I know where they lead, it seems those paths aren’t as important now.  They were of some other time.  A time where I was simple and I was me.




Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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