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Archive for April, 2013

red fire, black silhouette

Manny and I had been friends for years, going out about once a month whenever we both found ourselves single at the same time. When he had told me about his friend George and his idea to bring together the 6 of us under one roof, I instantly knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I always knew Manny to be a bit more impulsive than me, but it wasn’t until I lived with him that I discovered that he was a veritable fire in human form.

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a handprint on a cave

Several months had passed when George called together our third house meeting. The 5 of us had moved in together because of an ideal, a concept called the “Master Mind.” It was an idea proposed in the book Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. The basic gist was that if you surrounded yourself with motivated team players, you could form an interdependent group in which each member would be driven to greater heights of success than had he gone it alone. People outside our little motivational fraternity were inclined to making fun of us, calling us “weird,” “try-hards,” or the ubiquitous “nerds.” But through the strength of George’s conviction, we grounded ourselves amidst a storm of criticism.

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Glory is Near

sunrise in the mountains

When you think that all is lost, you must not give up. No matter how much you want to lie down in defeat and pull the covers over your head, you must keep fighting. There is no shame in temporarily retreating to your loved ones, but do not allow yourself to become addicted to their compassion, or it will soon turn to pity. You are merely gathering strength so that you may step out into the battlefield with greater zeal and resolve.

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a river of green water

It’s cold tonight. Brady and I instinctively run into the nearest bar. Unremarkable music softly sputters in the background. My eyes lock onto a couple of red-headed Irish girls sitting at the center table.

“Let’s go,” Brady says assuredly.

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3 bolts of lightning

House of Dreams, part 1 – Lightning Strikes Thrice

“That’s the last of it,” he announces as he slams the trunk shut on his burgundy station wagon. I linger for a minute watching the car drive away into the yellow-gray haze of street lamps and porch lights.

“That’s the last of it,” I sigh, as I look up into the night sky. Dark clouds begin to approach tellingly from the distance. I better go inside.

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