When I was in junior high school, we had an assignment to write a poem that I completely forgot about. When the teacher asked for the poem, I took out a piece of paper and quickly scribbled down a haiku. A few weeks later, I was called in front of the class and given a poetry award. My poem was later published in an anthology.
Running through the fields I see a green grasshopper Dead under my feet Continue reading →
I originally wrote this fictional epistolary piece for the DPChallenge: Shift Your Perspective, until I re-read the challenge and found out that you had to write about blogging. I decided to post this story anyway after reading Professions for Peace’s posts about forgiveness and stumbling and Tracy’s post about letting go. I also think it applies to Mirth and Motivation’s post FOCUS: PEACE. I apologize for any offensive language; I was trying to portray the character as realistically as possible.
I hope this letter finds you well. I know we haven’t spoken in sometime now, but I recently heard about your incarceration and I wanted to reach out to you. I know everything about the case, and I wanted you to know that I still love you. I will help watch over your kids until you get out.
If you want to write back, here is my new address:
199 E. Pearl Ave Gate #7
Harmony, Ca 93435
Coming out of cyber-sleep always feels like a bad case of food poisoning. Lt. Kozo sat in the sanitizer chamber for the better part of an hour as every orifice convulsed and expelled whatever liquid was left in his body.
“I know this is just a ploy of the GenCorp. For all I know, I was only sleeping for five minutes,” thought the lone explorer hoping that the thought scanners were not activated yet.
Ever since the Toxic Meltdown, all exploration was executed remotely by lone explorers in 3D simulation chambers. Kozo knew that the reason they isolated the explorers was so the GenCorp would have full control of anything of value found by the “expendable” explorers. Continue reading →
The first time I hit rock bottom was in Y2K. My career in filmmaking was over; I was living in my car; and I had ostracized myself from the professional surfing community that I had called home. When you are down to your last $200, your options for weekend entertainment recede to zero. So when I received complimentary tickets to the premiere of a surf film by Jack McCoy, a legendary surf filmmaker and mentor, I jumped at the opportunity. Continue reading →