Writing near darkness,
street lamps serve as precious light,
then bulbs fade to black.
Please enjoy my page. Any and all, subscribers, pledges and comments are welcome.
Thank you :)
The Chronicles of Earl
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I can tell you firsthand that this statement is true. None of us on the United Council of Intergalactic Space Beings, or U.C.I.S.B., heard the last screams of humanity, at least not in real-time. I did, however, manage to hear humanity's final screams, but only after consulting the Archive — but I am getting ahead.
How Writing Made Me a Better Reader
My attention span is limited, much like my generation, the millennials. If I were to describe it, I would liken it to the attention span of a 7-year-old kid at a birthday party held at a petting zoo — and I want to pet ALL the animals. Mainly, I want to pet the wary goat that won't approach anyone. I've been carefully throwing bites of birthday cake at him to win his trust, and now I can't fixate on anything else. I digress.
Tracks to the Past
Nicholas went to bed shortly after midnight. It was his usual time — his friends would sign off from World of Warcraft after nightly raids. Most of them worked in the morning, and Nicholas did not. He reluctantly moved back in with his parents after realizing the history degree he acquired was specific to a job he no longer wanted. It was not that he did not love history, because he did; Nicholas tried working as a teacher's assistant for a while but quit after only a short stint. Still, Nicholas felt the students he encountered did not appreciate history as much as he did. He was shocked that students had never heard of the Punic Wars, the Norman Conquest, or stuff he considered mainstream history. Who does not get excited about the rise of Alexander the Great? All kids these days care about is Tik-Tok and going viral. Nicholas was young but considered himself an old soul.