Gurgling in the belly. The song of hunger, the stain of war upon my chin. Squinting into the sun, buckled in the speeding car, measuring life, smelling time. Hunching over with feeble coughs, sniffing, wheezing, hacking out gobs of mucous, clots of blood. Then falling through the darkness I understand the relevance of God, for … Continue reading Gurgling

He felt like a twenty year old. His body was nimble and spry, as if it had suddenly been released from a long bondage. There was not a single ache or weary muscle; every limb moved freely, strong, and supple, even his hair was thick and full and though he couldn’t see it, he knew … Continue reading Chapter 112 – The Singularity

I died from this life in my night dress, cowering and cringing in my cellar, begging for my life before my enemies. Thugs, vagabonds and men for hire. I did not live up to Viking ideals, nor to the stories of the valiant Kings of Norway and the other heroes portrayed in my writings. It … Continue reading Chapter 111 – My Death

You are not raven or butterfly Shrinking at the smell of war Not craven or blind Nor slave to hate There is history in you Pain is not your glory Suffering is not your lesson They belong to the immoral one Rise from hidden places Slay the evil in the streets He is lost before … Continue reading The Smell of War

Assassination. Such an ambiguous word. It connotes some justification or meaningful purpose in the murder of a person. It is not like the purposeful, though random slaughter in battle and warfare. It is deliberate, sensible. On the night of my death, the night clouds were creeping across the face of the moon, shedding intermittent light … Continue reading Chapter 110 – My Assassination