Begins with Central America.
Food poisoning, blood oozing from places nature and God never intended.
Caves drowned in frigid crystal clear water, dead bodies hundreds of years old, and I'm shivering.
Tall temples devoted to the Gods, but I see aliens landing here. Everyone laughs.
Hiking in the Adirondacks.
It's a nice, warm reunion for she and me.
Back home. Reality. The daily grind.
Up early to write. 1200 to 2000 words per day.
Book sales steady. Not bad. Not great.
The valley after the peak. The cycles of life.
Making a living. No complaints.
I carry on with that negative capability they pretended to teach you in writing school.
A best friend from grade school stricken with cancer. Another good friend in NYC now fighting stage 4 lung cancer. My own lung cancer scare of a few months back proved to be just that.
I refused anymore tests.
It rains, and rains, and rains.
Missiles and Nuke tests in NOKO by a laughable clown of a kid.
ANTIFA smashing windows and breaking heads.
History wiped out by lefties, ISIS style.
Right wing creeps.
We lose Sam Shepard
I lose Sam Shepard.
Find solace in my Jeep, trout streams and lakes.
Daily two hour workouts.
My feet hurt. Feel hobbled.
Two kids grown up, one going back to school. One about to enter Junior High.
The time she flies.
Two father figures die unexpectedly. It upsets the balance, even if the passings are a part of that great cycle of life. Hallmark bullshit.
Other things dying.
The summer being one of them.
The summer that never was.
The cool weather arrives early.
Cold mornings, even colder nights.
Cold stares, one from the other.
Still the writing gets done.