There once was a mom, she never existed. They’d thought she’d run away, But nope. She just didn’t want to be in any pictures.
Month: March 2017
About the Author
Danny is an American author of many poems, short stories and pieces of flash fiction in a piece created for his then girlfriend, and current wife -she is still the only one to’ve seen this work. He is the author of one article on a user submitted cut-and-paste sports website, which ultimately left a bad taste in his mouth and he swore he would never participate in again.
Danny was born and raised in the greater Phoenix metropolitan area. He switched schools a few times in his adolescence and once told classmates that he was from Seattle. Danny now resides with his wife and two children in the Seattle suburb, Kent, Wa.
He has no college degree, following in his parents footsteps, however, he has earned some credits pursuant to a degree. He was once told that he never follows through on anything.
Danny is currently trying to figure out if he is the artist he thinks he is, or the employee/consumer he was raised to be. He has no formal training, being a half-assed, degenerate autodidact, he researches subjects on his own. Everything he has learned about the craft of writing can be attributed to research he has done via reading, a lot, mostly postmodern literature, but also how-to’s, video classes, and of course writing a lot of crap.
He is currently working on his first novel, while also trying to build his profile by staying creative via his blog Consumed. He is a father, and is constantly trying to figure out how to be a good one. He has a full time job as a fire alarm technician, which he feels blessed to have, as it gives him ample opportunities for insights regarding the modern world and how we live in it.
Many of Danny’s themes are centered around existence: metaphysics, philosophy, psychology, political science. He feels that the modern story should be a depiction of how it is to live within a particular slice of history.
Tightrope
ℑ
Tonight I walked the dog at around 9 o’clock. I ran into the three Weird Sisters, who wobbled and ached, they spoke of recent doctor’s visits in between long periods of silence. Our dogs sniffed, then growled and barked. I mumbled something, but in my mind I was extremely witty and congenial.
We pulled away and walked up the sloped driveway, walked along the arterial drag passing under erubescent street lamps and into the cover of shadow. I took a couple puffs off the 8 $ mass produced glass marijuana pipe I had shoved in my jacket pocket before I left. Presently I realize little resinated nuggets tumble around in my pocket as I hide the evidence. Of course the pair of rat terriers race to the chain link fence that runs along the sidewalk, their barks like trumpets, somehow melodic. Everything’s going to be OK. Life is a myth.
So suddenly everything slows down. Thousands of frogs croak, I can feel the reverberation of their ribbed ribbiting. Some days after 9 o’clock at night you can actually watch the clouds roll by. Have I slowed down enough to watch the world pass me by? I’m a big believer in perception, in different levels of communication and understanding, I’ve crossed a line. A threshold maybe? Everything’s going to be OK. There will be a price to pay… Cancer, stroke victim, diabetes, paraplegic, Crohn’s disease, multiple sclerosis, Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, degenerative, decognitive… Okay so I just realized I’m liquifying into the mud, slowly trudging my thighs through until they are sludge, my torso barrels on with force pushing forward into the future. I transcend(-s, -ing, -ed). I am one. I am all. I am a puddle, a looking glass, a point in time, the infinite pivot. I am here
