As a kid, I was slapped, shoved, kicked on occasion, and called names like “retard” and “stupid little son of a bitch.” I had fingernails dug into the back of my neck until I bled by an aunt. I had a “good” friend of the family who lived with us for a time hold a knife to my throat and threaten to kill me. I … Continue reading My disease
Once upon a midday dreary, amongst the graves, so still and eerie, I suddenly become acutely aware that I wasn’t alone. The Raven perched atop a crumbling, moss-covered headstone some twenty feet away from me wasn’t just looking in my direction, he was looking at me. Just why I held my arm aloft, inviting him to spread his wings, take to the air and alight … Continue reading Edgar and I
