The difficulty in life is not getting what you want but knowing what you want. So crouch down to yourself as if to a dying man and place your ear to your mouth–an impossibility but a necessity, and what is a necessity must necessarily become possible–and listen to your body’s faintly murmured wishes, a glass of water, a lover, an occupation, a green salad, and deny yourself nothing as long as it is murmured honestly in need. Beware the body’s constant wheedling requests for a knife to slice its own throat because it does not want to die. Not really. At least it will never really make up its mind on that point. Tell it to ask for something else.
Posted byDavid HammondPosted inMostly Fiction, Short storiesTags:Poem, Prose
Published by David Hammond
David Hammond lives and dreams in Virginia with his wife, two daughters, one dog, three rats, and a multitude of insects. During the day, he makes websites. More of his writing can be found at oldshoepress.com. View more posts