Marcus wrote the words hoping that getting them out of his head and onto paper would somehow make the nightmare go away, but like the bite of hard liquor or the smell of rotten meat, that kind of isolation lingered.
June 16th 1984: At 07:23 AM Fredrick William Jones, age 37, gets out of bed and walks through his house
The last talentless man floating in the sea of the extraordinary.
A moment of fear that caused a wealth of pain.
Just drifting through his days like a dream with only short moments of clarity…
The vision of your future now a distant last dream sitting on the pile with all the others, right next to happily married, a good parent and a fulfilling job.
Seven by D.I. Jolly Bethany sat alone at her desk, sipping tea and impatiently waiting for her dream to fade. It was her least favourite of the ones that reoccurred because it was both the most realistic and the one that took the longest to leave after she woke up. It had started, as far…
At age six he thought she was the most beautiful women he had ever met, other than his mommy of course.
At age five he felt like he’d lived a thousand years, and pretending to be a child for 16 hours out of every few years was difficult.