Friends

In the late oughts, I lived in Topanga, California, a rural enclave nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains in the middle of Los Angeles, with more than its share of eccentrics, including me. I was somewhat isolated. My company had bit the dust in the recession, my marriage was dying…

There was a moment last month when I suddenly realized a friend had cut me off. The realization took me by surprise, and suddenly I felt sad, shocked, and most dominant of all, embarrassed. Even writing this now is embarrassing, but in a bid to write honestly, I can not…

Grey blotches. A little light enters stage left. Sun? Must be. Some warmth on my back. And finally, some sensation, my right cheek rough with… grey? A patch of sandpaper onyx. My consciousness grows sharper, and with that, an acute nauseating pain rises. As I come to, a less than…

There’s no good start, in my mind, when writing a story like this. I’ve always been for the middles, the in-between bits. The journey rather than the destination as they say. On my treks through all manner of trampery and through all my writing I never developed a good start…

This is definitely one of those thoughts that go through my mind that perhaps may never have a confirmed answer. It seems like a universal element in the spiritual world. What universal element is this? It’s about losing friends. I’ve seen it repeatedly happen when it feels like one moment…