Author & Theologian
He sat at the piano looking perplexingly at it, wondering what he did to end up here, staring at those dreadful ivories and ebonies; they stared back mockingly. They must’ve known all along, the full-bodied lot of them stood anticipating his […]
A few days ago I read what is often considered T. S. Eliot’s most important work of poetry: Four Quartets. I was captivated by the poem and deeply moved by its rhythm and beauty. I’ve read before Eliot’s The Waste […]
Mr. O’Connor came to the realization one Friday afternoon, while sipping his coffee in the drawing room of his home, that he had turned into a fish. He came to this conclusion after seeing fins in the place where his […]
(Introductory note: here is an experiment with three sentences, repeated and scrambled, to form an abstract word-picture of pure subjective presentation. The final coherent phrase at the end of each paragraph is the original sentence pre-scrambled. Inspiration: How It Is, Beckett.) almost one […]
The printer roared into motion, and Dax watched as the world burned. And it was all his fault. “No one reads books anymore, Zranfk, don’t you get that? Who cares what’s right. Give me what’ll sell!” His boss never understood. […]
He hadn’t been out in ages. Catacombed in walls and the spaces between. He wept in the light, the darkness illuminated, weak and empty. But he knew, nothing. Just like everyone else. Through the city he moved like Sisyphus. […]
Today around the world literary fans are celebrating the birthday of the most loved and most influential writer who ever lived: William Shakespeare! Today commemorates the great bard’s death (April 23rd), exactly 400 years ago, and it is also the […]
Suffocating grey encompassed his world. He sat silently, shivering alone in a cold hard bed. It was all there was. He lived in this void, this empty place where only regret kept him company. The four walls were more like […]
[With apologies to William Faulkner.] My mother is a fish. Darl killed her, I saw it. He took that knife and then all there was was was nothing but red stained grass by the porch I saw it I swear. […]
without origin or purpose he was without a grasp of any semblance of personality or character but that is none of your concern now to our story this this man we shall call him if we must was without the […]