• Writing

    The Friday Muse – Home On The Horizon

    San Francisco was never her favorite place. She might have called it home, but it wasn’t in her heart to name the City a place close to her heart. The weather was too cold, the prices were too high, and there was something in the air – something amiss – that always gnawed at her consciousness. She wasn’t sure if it was an omen or some kind of psychic ability she unknowingly possessed, but she always felt San Francisco was burdened by evil. Sure, crimes were constantly committed in the city. But that was no different than any other city. Cram 8 million people into such a small area of…

  • Writing

    The Friday Muse – The Man With No Face

    He lives among us. He eats with us. He sleeps with us. He breathes the same air as we all do. Only he’s not us. Sometimes he’s not a he. He is a she – the mother of the crying 6-year-old at the grocery story. He’s the security guard at your local mall, rounding up the rowdy teenagers who tossed their gum over the side of the escalator. He’s the burglar in your home late at night, sliding through the shadows, invading what you thought was sacred space. He is not limited by our rules. He is not plagued by our anxieties. He is not confined by our space or…