There’s a website, called Post Secret. (It’s hosted on WordPress, btw.) People — thousands of people — mail their anonymous secrets, on a decorated postcard, to Frank Warren, the founder of this project. It’s spawned a Ted Talk, tours of college campuses. I often wondered if I had something buried so deep, that the only…

For some inexplicable reason, my mind spun my focus to movie tropes. One in particular. (And trigger warning — uh, I can be abrasive.) Visiting your deceased (insert relationship to our protagonist) at a (random) cemetery. Where he or she. Us. Me. Talks to the dead. Was that callous? I believe that whatever resides within…

I made spaghetti with meatballs. Meatballs I got at the St. Lawrence Market. It came with a lot of sauce. I got the bright idea to heat it up Both are on the stove top. A few minutes go by. The taller pot is close to a boil. The meatballs and sauce are just sitting…

A funny thing happened when I took down the recyccling. To preface: there is a small wooden open bookshelf tucked into the far corner. When people part with items that are still functional (however that applies to the object in question), they will put it on a shelf. Kind of like the Little Free Library.…

You know what else I haven’t done, ersatz… I have no clue what ersatz means. Just looked it up. Huh. Didn’t help. Knowing. Right. I haven’t dropped acid. Again, no desire really to try it. (Save for a safe environment guided by an anchor.) A workmate gave a tiny tinfoil square that held molly. Never…

I’m seeing shadows. Not the ordinary kind that just hang around when the light hits right. No, these are something else—shadows lurking just outside my line of sight. Smoke, perhaps? They drift like smoke. If you, like me, were a smoker back in the ’90s and spent your days in an office building, you might…

Gone way too soon.That’s what they say.Full of promise.Of light.Shining a light on fanciful ideas.Stretching them into stories.Filled with stardust.But no longer.For today we gather to mourn my creativity.Taken far too soon (if you call 58 years too soon).Some say my gift for stories was wasted.That I fretted too much over the narrative.That I couldn’t…