oneword.com

It sat in my hand like a lump of coal. They all wanted me to sing, but I knew my voice would come out like shattered concrete. It was stupid to come here on Karaoke night. What was I thinking?

I want to have an adventure. Stand on top of a mountain and shout at God. Swim out as far into the ocean as I can without looking back. Trek out into the desert for forty days and forty nights and return a changed and inspired man.

Maybe I also have a death wish.

They were gray and long and tabgles like sea drift after a great storm. He ran his fingers over the top of them. The fingers couldn’t pass through the tangles, just over them.

Don’t stop. Keep looking straight ahead. Don’t turn around. You will regret it if you don’t follow my instructions. This is not a joke.

I am trying to stay on schedule, to get all the things done I have to do, but things keep getting in the way. Like OneWord which appears in my email and beckons me to write for just one minute. Damn distractions.

I need somebody. OK. It’s just a Beatles lyric. But those songs you listened to over and over when you were young never leave. They stay buried in your brain until one day they just emerge whenever they are triggered by some word like… Help.

A house divided, etc. Without reasoning about it, I felt it. She might scream at me, but I needed to get it done. Without hesitation. It was cruel but we needed to move on. I flushed the goldfish down the toilet.

When it rose last night it was huge and red, like a massive ruby found in the bottom of a steamer truck. She said, “Look.” I tried not to divert my eyes from her face but the moon was insistent I look at it instead.

Steamy oven-like temperatures blast from the doorway as I wait for her to decide whether or not she is going to return.

I never forget a thing. My girlfriend says that is freaky. I just soak up everything, words, figures, tidbits. I even remember who you were with last night. I am sure you want me to forget, but I never forget anything.