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Showing posts from October, 2012


The following is a written account of actual events. And just because I’m telling you this story doesn’t mean I survived. There are many ways to die, many things to crush us, empty our innards, and turn us into the hollow walking dead. It all came together as I searched for the source of a mysterious sound in the basement of my condemned house. I stopped calling it my home many months before my wife moved out to put some distance between her and a condemned marriage. Since she left, my house has been full of ghosts. They don’t scare me, but the ones that bother me most are the happy ones. Since she left, I hate happy things. I hate the ghosts that echo the cheerful events from the past, and much prefer the ones that peddle fear and melancholy. ~ I’m lying on my couch watching an English television show about a guy who travels back to 1973. It occurs to me he's a lucky bastard and if I were him, I wouldn't come back. And that's when I see her again –the happy ghost– walking …