Author’s Note: Each week I write for you, the reader. Forgive me, but this one is for me.
“This can’t be right…”
As Dave studied the lush landscape through the spots on his windshield he quickly concluded that he had made an error somewhere along the way.
From a young age Dave had come to acknowledge certain facts about his life. He would never be the biggest or strongest. The things that fascinated all the “cool” people held no interest for him. But Dave had two things that very few people could match, an insatiable curiosity that drove him to learn everything he could about subjects that piqued his interest and a deep hatred for being wrong. This combination was strong enough to key to his rapid rise at Unified Solutions, the top engineering firm in the state, despite his deficiency of social skills. (more…)
Maor drifted through the Hall of Life, keenly aware that a guest had arrived. Visitors to The Library were rare and he took great pleasure in serving each one. A sea of books slid silently into the distance as he made his way down the central aisle until he found his destination.
His visitor stood statuesque, eyes locked onto a single book. Dark brown hair hung loosely over his broad shoulders. He appeared to be young, though it was always difficult to tell. The muscles of a warrior tried to hide themselves beneath the robes that hung down to the floor with about as much success as a mountain hiding beneath a curtain. Maor greeted the angel with a quietness that had nothing to do with their surroundings. (more…)
“Friedrich Nietzsche is famous for his quote ‘God is dead,” but he was wrong. To be dead, one has to exist in the first place. God has never been. If anybody is in here to find out about God, you are in the wrong place. This is a course on religion.”
These were the first words I ever heard from Professor Gangadean. His dark brown eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room. The rolled up sleeves of his linen shirt and his silver hair helped him look every bit the part of a wise philosopher. (more…)
The soulful sound of Nat King Cole singing Oh Holy Night greeted Morgan Thames as she walked into Starbucks. She mumbled under her breath, “It’s too early for Christmas music.” Thanksgiving was still a week away, but fake holly and miniature Christmas trees throughout the store were already bringing joy to the world.
Joy felt like a slap in Morgan’s face. If she were a drinker she would have found a rundown bar with seedy characters in the dark corners. But she was not drinker so dulling her sorrow with large amounts of caffeine had become her chosen alternative. Morgan rolled her eyes when her vanilla latte appeared at the bar with a smiley face in place of the “o” in her name.