Excerpts from My Daily Practice

12 Feb

As mentioned previously, I write in timed chunks every day. Most of this material is raw, so I won’t post it here; it wouldn’t make for very compelling reading and some is too personal.  That said, part of the purpose of this blog is to get my writing in front of people. My plan: to take certain passages, revise them for coherency, and post them here.

Here are the lines for this week:

A little girl walked past the window. Her pale ruddy face was a simple circle. Her nose buttoned upwards.  No, it was a mutt nose, one that could not decide what kind of nose it wanted to be.  She held her father’s hand, he with a bowling ball bull dog head.


He sat on the pale white beach, shivering off the cold ocean sweat. He lay down, naked and gleaming like bone in the light of night, that reflected bastard sunlight which the mirroring moon provides.  Hand between his legs to warm himself, he imagined his ancestors pulling themselves out of this same sea, glooping out of the mucky brackish waves, and once on land, beginning to beat the s**t out of each other. He figured that’s when the problems started.


The girl with palm fronds of curly red hair used to tell people about their houses.  Not the place where they lived, but a place that reflected the person, which she summoned in her mind’s eye, complete with rooms that she could walk around.  This was her psychic ability, this and dreaming of people she would someday meet. With nervous witchy eyes, half hidden by the fiery cascade of her curls, she told me my house was entirely white, with paintings that were black and red. There was sunlight on the walls, but no visible windows. And that she didn’t see most people’s house, so I was special.


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