About Me
I've been gone on a trip. The second book is extracting my DNA and scratching my teeth against the cement of my soul. As I struggle with the beasts to remove the story from their putrid brain, the only thing I can hope for is to come out of this a better person. No telling how many people might die and no telling how many torture sessions I will experience.
As I write, the AM radio drifts in and out of static reception. This has got to be the most irritating noise on the planet. That sound makes me want to kill. Of course, it is three in the morning, so maybe I am delusional. What am I saying, I am delusional.
Back to work. Ignore the screams.
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