Meat puppet

“What if I’m just a character in a play called your life?” he asks a friend. And he wakes with a playground in front of him. A park with hawks, bunnies, squirrels. Doing coffee drug then out to play. How could any attempt at rearranging the scene possibly make a difference? A stronger breeze than …

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A beautiful woman with a golden heart and enthusiasm for days calls to talk about her wonderful life. What a brilliant window of time to find open. A breeze comes through to bless every wall and inner surface.

Fleeting fear

And sometimes a fear – fear that this drift of a life cheats the world of something. Absurd. Plenty of us live and die, contributing nothing but thousands of toilet flushes and meaningless performances for the benefit of . . . not sure exactly who. Things done for money that might otherwise not have been …

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A mini-course in the freedom of a death march

You don’t get more. You get less. There’s no extra sparkly here or toys or special flavors. There’s taking away, losing, and less. There’s stripping away and being more. Paradox. There’s less of the noise and more freedom. Less responsibility and more do what you will. By what brighter star might you navigate?


Sunlight on the wakeup side of a Japanese maple. Snail craning neck sideways. Faith birdhouse waiting for some new homeowner. Dew drips down from maple leaves and sparkles. Spider webs tie a tree together. A batch of small chirpers makes mayhem. A squirrel out front cackles and chits. Sunrise pushing through the bushes, about to …

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