All they could do was "talk the fire out."
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Part of my nightly ritual is calling U.L., checking in with him before I go to bed. He's a very nervous and worried man, and has a slight addiction to mayonnaise, like the rest of us in Mississippi, despite believing that it causes him great anxiety. It's gotten a little better now that he's on his "nerve pill." Which took every preacher south of God to convince him to take. This side of my family is very old, very superstitious, maybe a little Christian Scientist but registered as Southern Baptist... And it never fails that each night our phone conversation goes a little...
The Mercy Blog: The Split Man Speaks
There's always some ledge I seem to be standing on. Some ledge of extreme human possibility or capacity.
At times, it’s a wonderful place to stand, when I’m thoroughly engrossed in a play, or a poem, and I’m truly making that effort to connect to the writing, to the theme, to the universality of it, and ultimately, myself, right?, but there are other times, when all it does is remind me of how terrified I am of heights: literal and those of accomplishment, or rather, the fear...
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