I set out to tell the truth. And sometimes the truth is shocking.
Tennessee Williams 1981
The Writers Desk
Time comes up again and again in conversation. We reserve in this go-go era a respect for original, finely crafted narrative. As it stands we are at a humanitarian crossroads. Ancient myths are vaporizing before our eyes. Science allows us to see out to the edge of the Universe or if we look the other way into the realm of subatomic particles. The ancient religious myth is crumbling and in its place a more durable story is being born before our eyes. In this era we see mankind’s dominion over nature crumbling. We are being forced to incorporate into our narrative answers to climate change, or the inability of political systems to serve humankinds needs. We see that the elites clinging to whatever gives them power. A compelling narrative gores the sacred. To survive so many misguided fallacies of the past we must soon replace these ancient beliefs with fact. This is the crossroads of a more informed narrative.
HOT SPRING HONEYMOON
“Look at Mr. Keefe Kenny,” Dotty said greeting the men.
Keefe hopped down off the running board, shoved the door closed. “Thought it was time I stop wasting all of my hard earned money at the clinic, come on down and surrender the rest of it to you and Gage.”
Dotty smiled big. “Oh, come on Keefe, we’re town’s best bargain,”
Most of what the town of Meadowhawk was; most of how the thing got held together; was something about how folk in town found everything they might need or not need here under the roof of this one place.
“Like going on a carnival ride” Keefe teased. “Turn you upside down and shake all that change right out of your pockets.”
