Time Pieces (Working title) Chapter 4

o the question persisted - were the events in the world, in the lives we live, random or planned? Was I chosen or was the archer blind? The trajectory of life is not just a one off shot. We are thrust up from birth and we are flung, we are thrown, we are tossed like a baseball or dropped like a scalding piece of iron - we are watched, scolded, reprimanded, bent out of our natural shape and forced into cages with invisible bars. The wardens in our prisons are bankers, lawyers and bosses. Spouses, teachers, family and friends play the part of loved ones yet hold us in their preconceived needed visions of whom they need us to be. The trigger is pulled, the arrow is slung, the sun has risen...the bell has rung and the fucking alarm clock is screaming out that it's time to stop dreaming. Fantasy morphs into reality and no change in the past can change the present I find myself in. Sherry had found, lost and found her life again and I had too much and nothing at all to do with it. As I watched her disappear her memory began to fade from my mind; what she looked like, sounded like and tasted like.

Water is Boiling – We have all Failed

The media is biased to the point of irritation and driven to increase the ratings have elevated the amount of hatred and anger to new levels. Everyone from late night talk show hosts, who claim to be the "good guys," to the pontificating radio talk show hosts who claim that everyone is wrong because they are "right," are to blame. They should be charged with inciting riots of hatred, bigotry and for ringing the division bells across the country

Time Pieces (working title) chapter 3

Sherry was staying at the same hotel as myself - we went to check if our rooms were ready and only mine was. She accompanied me to my room so she could “freshen up.” Her lips were puffy and her smile was soft. Her eyes were blue and her hair was jet black. She wore a pantsuit and a mans white shirt beneath the blazer. Her lipstick was red and her eyeliner was black. Her neck was long and tasted like perfume - a sweet and intoxicating flavor. When we finally got to the room we fell onto the bed and stayed there for the next several hours. She was a supermodel and somehow made me into a superman that afternoon. I truly was grateful for my 50 year old knowledge and 26 year old body.

Time Pieces (working title) Chapter 2

How do we know that it's for the worse and not something that needs to occur to promote evolution of some kind? We don’t. But when it's that devastating and it's something that was never written about in the historical files - we know that it's time traveled terrorism.