journal entry dated 8/20/02, by Skald
A puppy in New Delhi station- stumbling. It's body felt hard,.. its skin taut, like a tabla drum. It could not bark, only "mew" a pitiful croak. It's eyes filled with yellow mucous which quickly crusted.
Why is the truth so hard to feel?
Jessica is dead yet I dream of her and pretend it isnt so. Everything has changed but in my life nothing changes. I am consumed by a thousand irritants. The lie of security envelopes me.