The Voice

Dragons Of Golden Something

Please excuse the poor draftsmanship. I am basically relearning to draw. The iPad drawing apps have a bit of a learning curve. I'm working on it.

My first IPad-drawn comic

25. Postal

For a man who prided himself on never saying "no" to any of Dan's ideas, it's ironic that it was his last word.

24. Fifty-One Days in Waco

First they came with guns blazing. Then they came with negotiators. When the doors finally opened, they wished they hadn't come at all.

23. Hint Fiction

I recently discovered a book called HINT FICTION. The editor was discussing it on NPR.

The inspiration for the book was a six word story that is attributed to ERNEST HEMINGWAY, but there seems to be some controversy about that. Here is that original story:

For sale:

baby shoes,

never worn.

Robert Swartwood was so taken with this brief fiction idea, especially in this, the age of TWITTER, that he put together a collection of such stories, limited to 25 words or less. I bought a copy, and I urge you to do the same.

I was also inspired to write some of my own. They're not all golden, but it's a great exercise. And who knows, with this format I may still be able to make my goal for the year. Only need to write five pieces per day til June 30th. Hmmm...

Here is one. This one is loosely based on a true story. When my grandfather was mayor of a suburb of Chicago, he pissed off the mafia. They said something along the lines of "you scratch our backs..." and he said "get out of my office." I don't know if the following incident was tied directly to that, but I do know that it actually happened.

Alfred could feel his zeal for his political career melt away as he stared at his poor, murdered dog, Tiger.

More hint fictions to come.

22. Family

I used to be a part of a close-knit family. Grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins all lived fairly nearby. We would get together for each person's birthday, every major holiday, and sometimes for no reason at all.

We were a constellation. No, we were a solar system, all of us revolving around my grandparents house, at the center of it all. Corny, maybe, but no less true.

Then my parents moved me and my brother with them to Arizona. And then I moved myself to California. My brother headed up to Oregon. One bloodline now thrown across four zipcodes.

Now... If we stick with the solar system analogy I feel like we've all spun wildly off our respective axes, and gone wandering through space, tethered to nothing. Free, but wholly alone. It's a strange feeling.

Stranger still is the feeling of normalcy of that. Of calm acceptance. I don't feel a sense of nostalgic mourning for what once was. Neither am I ecstatic about. I am indifferent. I remember a time when two of my best friends on earth were my cousins Lisa and Mike. Today, I feel no urge to call them up and see how they are. I know that they don't experience this urge either, or my phone would have been ringing. And that's okay. I am not complaining, just observing.

Hmmm. So, to sum up: I am disconnected geographically and physically, so I begin to feel disconnected emotionally, which leads me to care less and less about reconnecting physically, so I don't... and then I feel even more disconnected. Strange loop.