i.ii

January 31 Saturday 5:32pm “You’re sexy,” John sent a Snapchat. I could not help but rip my face with an overwhelming ear-to-ear smile. I began to think of us making out, my mind wandering with  thoughts about our lips moving against each other along with the sounds of our desperate gasps. We were walking his …

last note

12 January 1997   He was fifty-two, drunk and alone in a car heading home to his wife from an after-work party.  He knew he could not drive home alone without Satan pulling his right foot  six feet under the ground, and Death, with his scythe, ready to reap whatever is there to be  reaped …