
Spider Web Garden of Evil


It just happens…
I don’t think about it anymore.
There is no struggle. No worries about whether you will like it. No judgment about quality, good or bad. I just write.
Often I forget about it as soon as I hit the publish button. What freedom. Soon my first novel will be published and strangely I suspect, with that I will be satisfied.
The writing of the novel just happened. Nothing changed after that except…
I don’t think about it anymore.
I just write…

I was having my morning Americano at my local watering hole… The Viking looking dude with the painted toe nails and a one eyed black beagle was talking to ‘J’ the attractive barista, about this great happening new place somewhere… that was just the best place to be on the weekends; and J said, “I heard it’s like therapy!”
At least that’s what I think she said; but anyway they all agreed this new place was the ‘cats ass.’
And my first thought is, What is this new great place?
Which is quickly followed by this thought… Don’t ask!
You will ruin it for them. You will go and judge and all will be upset.
Or
The moment you arrive the place is no longer the place to be.
So I left. I didn’t ask. The cool kids are safe.

The rain fell from the heavens.
The ground was slick and wet.
Windshield wipers slapping time.
We hadn’t got there yet.
Thunder roaring in the distance.
Where fears and dreams could meet.
Sure enjoyed this weekend past.
My Dear you looked so sweet.

“Someone who is born feet first, briefly wears their mother as a hat…”


We were waiting for the daybreak.
What some would call a sign.
Up all night for just one more take.
The show was on the line.
We were well fed, fat and tragic.
The directors name was on the chair.
They were making movie magic.
No cut, no wrap, no care.
It ended like a whisper.
Then we just drove away.
The air was cool and crisper.
And the Starlet had her say.

The summer overtook them.
They shed their frowns and clothes.
The winter just a memory.
In the past where all thought goes.
They smiled in the moments.
The way beauty often does.
Not thinking about yesterday.
Or tomorrow just because…

I was 32 when I decided to stop drinking. 35 when I succeeded. I didn’t know where to go at first because if I really didn’t want to drink then staying out of the bars was paramount.
Life began to get boring by the time I met her when I was 42. Then we had a daughter. The Boredom left and was replaced with narcissistic madness, lies, forgeries, courts and lawyers. I thought I longed for the Boredom again, however I just really wanted decency.
I am 18 years sober, my daughter is 10 and I think I have found who and what I am looking for. It is not to late. We are in a good place.

The air is cool now, almost no humidity. Anything seems possible. I am feeling light and free. The weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. The struggles are far from over. I just won’t be doing it alone.
I have reached out for help and help is coming in the form of beauty and grace… This is the version of the story I choose to believe, because in the end there has to be hope and love or really, what is it all for anyway?

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