Showing posts from January 21, 2018


(Mont Tremblant, Quebec - Winter 2009) It's 2AM. My mind is in a spin. Thoughts are racing so fast that I can't catch them. It's 3AM. I've left the house the way you leave when you don't know where you or going or why - just that you had to get up and go.  I am driving down a country road. It's a crisp, chilly evening that smells like winter. My mood is jagged and sharp. I taste blood in my mouth from an apparent injury I do not remember. The red juice is dripping from the corner of my lips. I find a napkin in the cup holder and I place it over the wound. It's as if I have been kidnapped and gagged and in a way I have. I  pull into an empty lot by a long abandoned sawmill. I turn the engine off and I step outside. I immediately feel the deep freeze run through my bones.  Clouds of smoke exit my mouth the moment my breath makes contact with the air.   I walk toward a bridge and stand upon it looking down at the rushing river. Rivers are mighty. They own what