By WILLIAM PRENTISS My world is obsidian; it was formerly gray splintered by veiny shafts of ochre spasmodically penetrating the unseen with countenance warming spumes of hope, now curtained in blackness, muzzled by stygian lassitude. Rhythms of life disrupted, surface bobbing on an ocean of unreality, unsure where I am or where I am heading, […]
Mornings with Tolstoy – Day Ten
November 20, 2014 Leave a Comment
By WILLIAM PRENTISS I no longer have use for money, material possessions, or tangibles associated with not being in a presumed coma. It costs to keep me wherever Sis is keeping me and I am thankful resources exist for my care. I have not always wanted to live, not since the assault that reshaped my reality. […]
Mornings with Tolstoy – Day Seven
October 22, 2014 Leave a Comment
By WILLIAM PRENTISS I lie here only able to hear, and that unknown to others, thinking about empathy and compassion, wondering about the root of both. What compels us to feel the plight of others, to desire to alleviate their suffering? What is the source of empathy and compassion?
Mornings with Tolstoy – Day Six
October 16, 2014 Leave a Comment
By WILLIAM PRENTISS Hours on end, thinking yet not seeing, hearing but not feeling, feeling but never expressing, this is my wakened state, unknown to none but me, and God of course, and maybe my sister. Sis read again from Tolstoy. She assumes I can hear but she doesn’t know for sure. Her extraordinary faith keeps […]
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