she's gone

a major inspiration in my life has died. my shadow of 20 years. my cat, my daughter, my loved one, the one who taught me how to love, who slept on my desk beside me as i labored over words, ideas, structure, subtext. my muse... how to transcend the depths of despair? how to go on without her? writing is so insignificant right now. i remember another time when i felt like that. when my father died. to the spirit, may it soar.

Social Studies No5

that flawless image

Vanessa is probably better off without him, deeper in love with the prospect that he suffered a tragic demise, like the fate of all great artists who never enjoy recognition or the fruits of their labor while they're still alive. Yes, he decides, death brings with it all the benefits promised but undelivered in life. All the myths… pure, unadulterated happiness, unconditional love, charged flashes of memory altered subconsciously to make within the survivor’s mind a permanent place for that flawless image that never truly existed. And of course the ultimate advantage to the deceased, total liberation from the constraints of ordinary life.