the pines needles crunch softly under foot. The damp earth left in the wake of the storm fill my nostrils. Was this what peace felt like? I wasn't for sure on the matter myself, But it was what I imagined when my mind retreated into itself to shut out the horrors of world. My mind snapped back to reality and I tasted what the true world was once again. The thick and dark with the slow death and decay of the world. I sat atop the skeletal heap of rubble taking in what one would only think hell would look like. Below the horizon the dim globe of what once was the radiant sun sank slowly below the scabbed scenery. A great city reduced to ruins, whose names long forgotten, spread before me. Tiny specks in the distance moved through the wreckage, a pack of feral dogs looking for less fortunate prey.


I keep coming back to this story, I don't know why but it keep pulling me back in. I never really think anything I write is worth two shits in a sand storm but this one in particular keeps pulling me back with a sirens song.

I've always dreamed of being a novelist but I have never had enough drive to actually finish anything. the longest running manuscript Ive had was a solid 56 pages and I still saw it as garbage. when it comes to my own work I am hyper critical of every detail.

Just some food for thought I suppose, perhaps one day I'll make it big and see that I had laid the foundation for my success right here on my own portion of the vast internet. there are only two certain things in life, Death and taxes