madpoe317

An offering of comfort
(soft spoken secrets)

The end.

And a half eaten green apple.

The problem with fiction is happy endings are possible,
probable and partially do to purpose.

The question that does arise is where are you in the story?

The third person, the narrator, the poet?
Are you the words?
The description.
The purposely placed non-fiction.
The Period-the coma.
The heart beat of drama.
The wind, the breeze.
The plastic book mark with tinsel.

Fiction for one is the choice of chance.
The editor is the band aid.
The reader is the body.
And the words.... the words are the heart that pumps the memory of life
that tell your story.

The sequences of your life could be best described as the glue that binds your book together.

The book that one sets out to read,
is the book that one sets out to understand.
For the meaning of the content
is the meaning of the man.