Words have saved me.
When you write without being a writer.
Words saved me.
They saved me from myself and protected me from others.
They came back, they do so at times, rarely. They come in pangs of guilt, stabs of excitment, twinges of conscience, and regrets.
When reality doesn't resemble one's fiction.

Blessed and cursed with the power of observation. Wordaholic. Inquisitive. Old soul.
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from "The Scissor Man"
The following novel excerpt appeared, in slightly different form, in "Normal 2014: Collected Works from the First Annual DFW Conference," an anthology published by Lit Fest Press / Festival of Language in 2015.
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