The Writing Life II
2006-2013
As part of the personal and professional downsizing I've been doing for some months now, I am bringing this blog to an end but keeping it online as an archive. I'll continue literary blogging at A Writerly Retirement. Now you see him, now you don't.
You will follow. You must, for I have a parting gesture in mind but it depends on your following in order to make sense, and I give no value (absolutely none!) to gestures which do not make sense. You will follow and so I say, Welcome, my friend, Welcome to the Valley of the Waters of Fire, where you will be consumed. And sooner than you think, even as I will be consumed sooner than I think, since we all get tired of waiting and jump from the rope in the end. As we fall our hands trail over our heads, making the hand the last organ to go and the appropriate vehicle for whatever parting gesture can be mustered by flesh heated in agony. What do you think it will be, my friend? An erect middle finger? Perhaps you'll be surprised. I may give you the flat palm of my hand, raised horizontally to cushion your own fall, which so quickly follows mine. But hurry! For I am burning.
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