From the Writing Vault

I recently went through some old writing notebooks and computer files. I am going to post some of my old scribblings, poetry and stories just for fun. I will post more over the next few weeks. Here is one to get you started.


Found on a notepad from 2004...I wrote this after a difficult day at work...

"Here I sit waiting. In a sense, I guess it’s not all that bad. Being able to work at my laptop on a story while collecting a paycheck from my other employer. How many writers can say that? But, in a way, it’s agonizing. Not in the “I’m waiting for my tests results” way, but in the sense that I may get called at any minute to go restrain a youth who has bitten two staff and thrown her desk chair through her window (I'm very tired of being bitten). Then, as the ritual commences, I will need to assess her for lethality. I am he who will determine if she will kill herself tonight. Is she living in reality for I am not. I let go months ago.

I rub my eyes and begin my assessment. I ask questions slowly, with purpose. Distinct pronunciation, exact wording. She answers but her hand shakes. My eyes are drawn to her inconsistencies. She laughs but looks away to hide a tear.

She speaks with word, but convinces with affect.

After assessment, I can begin the 45-minute drive back home, all the while asking myself if I missed some sign, or misinterpreted a statement, or missed some non-verbal that should have triggered a red flag. I breathe deeply. My upper lip quivers. Several tears fall from my left eye. My right eye is too tired to put forth the effort. I’ve done four assessments already this week and it's only Tuesday. She may be dead tomorrow. I am he. Fuck. Is it 3:45am yet?"