Posted in Literature, Re-blog

How Do you Kill a Monster without Becoming One….

A Writer's Life

As the story told itself, it switched around some on the actual prompt, but that’s okay. I let it go where it wanted to go. Let the speaker use his own voice which is nothing like mine. And nothing like my normal writing. But it was fascinating to watch the words flow.

———-

It ain’t easy.  That much is for sure.  Been a long time since I killed anything but back in the day….. yeah…. back in the day…..

It came for me when I was 15.  Thought I was tough then, I did.  Big swagger as I walked down the street.   Tough words.  Angry words.  Ugly words.  Funny how when you’re young you think those things make you tough.  Don’t take me wrong.  I was a scrapper.  I’d been in any number of street fights.  All my life.  Thought that made me tough, too.  How little I knew.

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"I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind, Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng" — Earnest Dowson, 1867 –1900 Non Sum Qualis Eram Bonae sub Regno Cynarae (1896) (Excerpt)
The lovely image of an owl is courtesy of Michael Gäbler [CC BY 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons. The coffee image is public domain

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