FWJ #8 '..Every tumble sounded like a blow from a heavyweight fighter, like it should be the last. But the underdog kept going, it's undercarriage visible every four seconds...'
FWJ #4 '..A memory of light, and love, and happiness. But that light burned out a long time ago, taking the love with it, and slowly seeping out the happiness, pulling it down into its ash filled crater...'
FWJ #3 '...I look like them but I feel more at home when the sidewalks are filled with a city's silence and dark pockets grow between street lamps and headlights...'
Free Writing Journal #2 '...Straight backed, my briefcase resting on my knees, I feel like my father, can imagine him sitting in the exact same chair after getting exact same call. I was never an easy child. I see me when I look at my boy and it makes me cringe. Which makes me feel guilty. Which makes me try harder to do better for him. Which isn't such a bad thing I guess...'