Kurt Cobain
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This is My Journal; Please (Do Not) Read it When I’m Gone
“What are you doing?” I ask. We’re in the backroom and R begins to thumb through what most people have come to call my bible. I can’t imagine there is anything of interest written on the quad pages, but these are still my thoughts. My summaries to stories I mean to write. Fragmented essays I Continue reading
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A Conversation with God
The man who sits across from me isn’t what I expected. The stories depict him as towering; the man before me cannot be any taller than five-foot-one. He smiles. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says. His voice isn’t what I expected, either. It’s not booming. Not resonating through my ears. Instead, it’s gentle. Think Continue reading
Chapin City Blues 