« The Alphabet of Regret: W is for Wanderlust | Main | The Alphabet of Regret: Y is for Youth »

Wednesday, June 09, 2010


Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

Nice one, man! "And his tears were mud and his eyes sparkled with flakes of mica and fools gold." really solid stuff. Sweeps along wonderfully.

And when he saw them - the ones with their own map and shovels - his heart would feel like activated thermite and ribbons of mud would run down his cheeks again.

Ohhhhh, YES.

What Jett said? Ditto.

Charlie: One of my favs.

Oh my god, Charlie. That was perfection.

Or, to coin someone else's phrase...Dude. Goddamn.

You know, a zen teacher once told me this story except your version is more mud-caked and I don't think he mentioned the shit house rat.

I like your version.

. . . between his dreams and his doubts. Absolutely beautiful.

the story leaks like mercury

we are lucky to let it seep in

Good shit.

The comments to this entry are closed.