The following passage was written not about a man or a woman in love, nor was it written about the mechanism of worship in the human heart, in spite of how precise an image it makes. It was written about a dog.
Continue reading...Tuesday, March 17, 2009
As the dog approached the fence, which he did slowly, circumspectly, without thinking about what I was doing I reached in to pet the dog. Big mistake. And the immediate, “stupid, stupid, stupid” detonating in my head. I still have the scar on my right index finger as a reminder.
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Wednesday, May 27, 2009
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