Category: ‘short story’

the moon. 19 of 22.

January 11, 2011 Posted by the writer

the moon

Regardless of how I try to spend my time alone, your imprint controls my thought processes. Our history carves my actions.

The thing is, we both know better. We know we’re only harming ourselves – holding onto death. Refusing to make room for life.

We want him to suffer eternally, regardless of what it does to us.

You are perfect to me. You are my only understanding of perfection. When we had a child together it was perfect. Our suicide pact… perfect.

Why should either one of us live with the burden of setting him free? Once upon a time we thought happiness existed, I’ve lost track of how may lifetimes ago that was.

New York City has brought us both refreshed vitality. Each time we are born and return to this city to find the other, something new and exciting awaits. Someone like Anthony, or a red-headed stranger. This place contains more opportunities of avoidance than you or I ever thought possible. (more…)

the star. 18 of 22.

January 10, 2011 Posted by the writer

the star

I dove back into my work. Life was more peaceful when he stopped talking to me.

I thought of you every day. I told myself it wasn’t constraining me while I burnt patchouli oil and practiced yoga. I told myself it was liberating.

For a brief period it felt that way.

A client came to me shortly after losing her teenage son to leukemia. I held her hands with closed eyes and talked about how much it meant to her little boy that she still allowed him to play baseball even as he continued getting sick. I told him he said he was sorry he couldn’t get better and she started to cry.

“That’s exactly what he used to say to me, ‘I‘m sorry I can’t get better mommy.’ Do you have any children? You seem like you would be such an amazing parent, one any child would be lucky to have.” (more…)

the tower. 17 of 22.

January 9, 2011 Posted by the writer

the tower

Blood relationships mean nothing in the scheme of things.

The more my father spoke to me. The less I listened. He became frustrated. Assertive. He interrupted my thoughts one afternoon.

I cannot help you if you will me not to. I will never stop trying. This attempt is complete.

The three of us have ancient history. You and I are meant to have a child. Two centuries ago our child was kidnapped. Murdered. Neither one of us overcame the devastation. We have lived so many lives together since then.

What is masked as an esoteric education is simply a powerful memory.

And you remember too. (more…)

temperance. 15 of 22.

January 7, 2011 Posted by the writer


Many of my most valuable lessons have come during meditation. You are not the type to meditate. You think it’s a waste of time and suppose all to know comes about during daily routines.

I am fiercely disciplined.

If I did not choose to balance daily happenings, life would be chaos. You wouldn’t mind that though. You find something romantic about chaos. You’ve told me that on more than one occasion.

You and I are different in some ways. So different.

My father continued speaking to me.

Take better care of yourself. We have awaited this moment.

He started appearing in my dreams. (more…)

death. 14 of 22.

January 6, 2011 Posted by the writer


Accepting it does not solve matters, as one might assume.

Shortly after I left Anthony’s, I was more confident than ever before. Contrary to constructing assurance, this broke down everything I wanted to believe.

Deep down, I always wished to be normal.

I accepted this would never be. I realized complete surrender was my only chance of survival. This was a difficult task for me. Certainly you have heard the common saying, “The truth will set you free.”

I could not imagine a more deceitful phrase. (more…)

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    FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.
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