The Devil On Her Shoulder Chapter 4
I mentioned at the start of the serial that it was based on a dream I had many years ago. While the story is different than the dream, the conclusion to this chapter is very close to its ending. Without giving away the end of this chapter, the dream concluded with me crawling into bed next to my future wife and murmuring the last words Isaac speaks in this chapter. The one difference is that in the dream the Christmas hymn “All is Well” started playing immediately after. Presumably because it was almost Christmas when I had the dream. Then I woke up. I have no idea what I did the day after. For some reason I think it was a Saturday. Other than that, I have no memory of it. Seventeen years later, give or take, I still remember the dream.
Legacy
Having an impact is a common aspiration in the world today. Many of us want to make a difference in some way or another. We want to leave something behind. Hopefully the impact will be positive. The truth is we have no real control over who we influence or how we influence them. Nonetheless, how we have affected people determines how we are remembered. We hope we will be remembered for our finer moments. Ultimately, we have no control over that either. It’s entirely possible we will be remembered for the times when we lost control or said something we regretted. Many of us will never know how much of an impact we have had on other people, for better or for worse. Others will know their legacy all too well.
On A Tuesday
I, like the protagonist of our story, don’t particularly care for Tuesdays. Tuesdays are work-week limbo. The rest of the week looms over us like a dark cloud. We can’t even look forward to close of business on a Tuesday because the next day is Wednesday, which is a so-so day. With Wednesday we can at least look forward to Thursday. On Thursday, we obviously look forward to Friday. Unless perhaps we are among the poor souls who have to work on the weekends. Our protagonist, and his co-workers, are about to have a bad Tuesday. Then again, Tuesdays almost always are.
Mile 97
I am hesitant to write any sort of introduction to this particular story, since a portion of it is true. Only a portion. As such, for reasons which I think will be clear upon reading the story, it seemed to me that writing a sarcastic introduction as I am wont to do would be in bad taste. It is only a slight exaggeration to say that every new movie and show is “based on a true story.” And as we all know, most of what happens in these movies and shows never actually occurred. This is why so many of them are now “inspired by true events,” so the filmmakers can bend the truth even further. This story falls squarely into the latter category of “inspired by true events.” Except for one singular occurrence the story is entirely fictional. I am as much in the dark as to the conclusion…
Silence is Love
Everyone, or rather almost everyone, wants to leave something behind; to create a legacy that endures long after they have gone. Legacies take many forms. For ordinary people, that legacy can be creating a better life for their children, or it can just be their children. For the egregiously rich, it can be their name on a college building they funded, or a foundation. For the creative kind it may be a particular work, a particular performance, a particular piece of art. In the end no one has the luxury of choosing what they will be remembered for, least of all writers, moviemakers, musicians, anyone who has ever made any kind of material for public consumption. This assumes, of course, that they will be remembered at all. To a certain extent, the moment you enter public consciousness, in any capacity, you lose autonomy. You lose control of who you are,…
Long Walk Alone
Alcohol is a many-faceted substance, most often referred to by it’s various nicknames: social lubricant, truth serum, liquid courage, and so on. It serves many different purposes for many different people. For some people it’s simply a way to relax after a long day, a quiet little escape, harmless. Some people just drink at parties for fun. Others drink because reality is a harsh mistress, and somewhere along the way they lost the ability to cope. Others are just addicts, trapped in a need, one they don’t always want to be free from. Drink is a Trojan horse. The immediate result is freedom, or escape. When the desired effect fades away we find the poison that the drink smuggled in. We become paranoid about things we said and did when we were not entirely ourselves. Poison lingers long after the escape has vanished. Within the drunken consciousness there is often…
Easy Way Out
It’s October! Which means that it’s getting cooler; everywhere except the south that is. I spent the early afternoon sweating profusely at my favorite local brewery. October also means that Halloween is fast approaching. Halloween means candy, costumes, and for my wife and I, a lot of horror movies. So with the general subject of the horror genre in mind, I’ll be posting a horror short story every weekend in October. Or at least that’s the plan… I do still work full time. The intro to my latest short story “Easy Way Out” is below. Enjoy! Nature is good, but in small doses. The impulse to “go back to nature” in any capacity is a strange one. If you think evolution is correct, you’re wanting to return to something that mankind spent millions of years evolving to escape. Evolution is an escape from the horror of nature. It’s an escape…