The fear is rising as the day turns to night

For the one night of the year has come when the costume brigade is my plight

They knock at my door and their sizes may vary,

What they want is the last bit of sanity that my mind clings to…barely.


They come in small packs but soon go away

Im afraid to answer because I cant afford to pay .

I beg for the daylight I cant bear their screams

I dare not fall asleep…. They may attack in my dreams


So here is sit in the corner, knees pulled up to my chest

Hoping they dont barge in ,And demand my mind to arrest.

Beads of sweat from my brow, Begin to pound the wood floor

Or maybe its the ghost from the shower That spoke to me before.


Its the one day of the year When I dont dare make a sound

I pray they don’t find me for my sanity they will steal…. if ever I am found.






Fallout Regrets

Journal entry-

Dec. 18, 2012 11pm

We had another fight tonight. I can’t control my temper. What started out as a discussion turned into a complete blowout. For the third time in 2 months she asked me to leave because she feared for her and the kids safety. I can’t blame her. I now know that slamming the chair from the kitchen table against the door frame….shattering it to pieces, is not the actions of a rational man who loves his wife and children. I can’t control it….once the needle hits red there is no turning back.

So here I sit…. in the place that gives me complete quiet and solace from the world. I found it the first time I was asked to leave. So I came back the second. And now the third.

It sits in the back of “old man Callahan’s” Farm. He has allowed us to roam his property since we moved down the road from him 10 years ago. I came across it by chance. It has become my place of refuge.

It is an odd place to call a temporary home away from home, but somehow it just feels right.

It has all my needs for basic survival.

-Canned food to last at least 6 months
– bottled water
– lanterns
-various books and magazines….although way outdated still something to read
-a old school transistor radio with dozens of extra batteries
-a couple of fairly comfortable cots for sleeping
– and a leather recliner for kicking back in.

Not much to look at besides that…I mean its a nuclear fallout shelter for God’s sake not the freaking Marriott!

Anyhow, I write in this journal to help clear my mind and realize that this whole episode tonight was my fault. They are always my fault. When I go home tomorrow I will make an appointment with that anger management counselor she has begged me to see and set the ball into motion.

December 21, 2012 9 am

Well….looks like I did it this time.

I got out of the cot this morning thanks to a large boom that awoke me. It must have been part of the dream I was having. Mushrooms were falling out of the sky and leaving craters in the ground. Beyond that I don’t remember any of it….mushrooms lol.

I went up the stairs to the door to leave, and wouldn’t you know it the stupid latch is jammed and I can’t get out. With the restless sleep I had last night I have decided to get a few more winks and then figure out a way to get out of here.

December 23, 2112 6 am

I have been down here for more than 2 bloody days. The door won’t budge. Banging on it does no good. My rage and myself are not as effective when battling a steel door. I have found a manual that has the make up of this damn shelter that I hope will shed some light on how to get out.

I miss my family and feel stupider by the minute…not just by my actions but for leaving. When i leave that means she wins. I won’t ever do that again.

The manual states that an automatic seal will engage in case of a nuclear blast. The seal will disengage after 48 hours has transpired.

At approximately 7:43 am he hears the lock click open.

He looks up at the door and slowly makes his way toward it. Once he reaches it he turns the wheel counterclockwise and pushes outward.

A rush of fresh air and light pounds his senses. Before he can open his eyes to adjust to the surroundings, he realizes that he hears nothing.

No birds.

No farm equipment


Then he hears a click

With all the fear and dread that is filling his mind he forces himself to open his eyes.

He shields his eyes with the palms of his hands and looks directly in front of him.

What he sees he can’t comprehend.

So she explains it to him.

“You have hit me in front of my kids for the last time, you Son of a Bitch. Mr. Callahan knows what you have been doing to me and the kids and gave me his shotgun to remedy my situation the only way it can be remedied.” She says with the shotgun pointed directly at his chest.

“He told me you had been coming out here. He engaged the time lock to give me time to decide on what I wanted to do. He said I had 48 hours….I have been out here waiting for 46. I made my decision then and I plan to carry it out now.” She calmly stated and unloaded both barrels.


He stumbled back from the force of the blast and fell back into the shelter and down the stairs. She looked down at him tossed in the shotgun and shut the door and said,

“That’s what happens when my needle goes to red.”

She goes back to the farmhouse to inform Mr. Callahan that it is done with. He just nods his head and she leaves to be with her children.

After she is gone, he goes out to the barn and cranks up his old backhoe and drives it out toward the shelter. He does what he has always wanted to do.

He uses the huge dirt mound that sat behind the shelter and buried the front of the shelter under it. When he finished there was no sign that the shelter ever existed.

He returns to his farmhouse, sits on his porch swing and says to no one in particular with a chuckle,

“Maybe that calendar the Mayans made were predicting the end of HIS world….cuz my world is doing just fine.”


Enemy Gone….Truth Gained


I used to cherish this picture of you. I even had it blown up to poster size and hung it above my fireplace, so I could stare at it and smile for hours. I took it while you stood there, in your usual pissed off stance, from the comfort of my living room, mere hours after I finished my masterpiece hedge trimming, and minutes before you took your chainsaw to it. It made me glow to watch you get your dander all muffled and in a tizzy while you cremated my yard art.

We were neighbors. But by no means friendly. You moved into the house next door to me just as I got used to NOT having a neighbor. I hated you for that. We never even attempted to make nice…..just continued to try to 1 up each other on nastiness.

Instead of calling the proper authorities to intervene…we took matters into our own hands until that busy body down the street thought we were going to kill each other. You put a restraining order out on me…..I put one out on you.

That was when we resorted to lawn warfare. I had been waiting for you to retaliate after my hedge art….but your side of the fence stayed quiet.

I waited as your lawn grew out of order…the newspapers piled up and the mail was left unattended. I should have checked on you, but as often as I had wished for your demise I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

The busy body stepped in and the police came. You had been dead for 3 weeks and no one had cared to notice.

I was happy you were gone.

That was until I found out you left all your belongings to me. House and all.

I was beside myself with rage. Why would you leave your enemy next door everything???

I found out why.

We each-were war veterans.
We each-had no family to speak of.
We each-never got peace once the war ended so many years ago.
We each- thrived on getting under each others collar

I found the box of information about me that you had in the chest next to your fireplace. You knew the similarities before I did. And fed off past anger….like I do.

I have been coming to your gravesite every week for the last three years to make sure it is clean of debris, always has flowers, and looked well cared for. I could not take care of you in life…..but by God, I can since your passing. You and I no longer quarrel and I am filled with dismay by the way I treated you without knowing we were brothers of war. The best I can do now is take this photograph and burn it here, so you and I both know it is gone…..just like our feuding past.

-he flicks his lighter and puts the flame to the portrait, as it burns he places it in the metal tray he has brought and sets it beside the headstone-

Thank you for showing me what true peace is about. I will see you next week, neighbor.


Absence of Thought

My mind is a library of snippets of information gained from my short time spent in reality-6 years, and the overwhelming time I spent escaping reality-37 years.

The library opened its doors to the blog world a few months ago. The snippets were transformed into stories to share for whoever cared to read them.

Some are true stories about being a step father.

Some are true stories about my journey from being a drunk/addict/thief/criminal to the person I am today.

Some are lists of things I’ve done.

Some are nothing but fiction.

All came freely from my mind, through the tips of my fingers and onto to screen.

I have no regrets of anything I have published and hope to continue that trend.

I blog to rid my soul of demons.

I blog to chronicle memorable events.

I blog to free my mind of clutter.

I blog to create pictures with words.

I blog….

Lately, reality has become a little too real.

The library doors have closed……for remodeling……

Once I get used to the new version of reality that has been thrown my way, I hope to be able to get back writing regularly.


Return To Sender- Dos

As he waits for a response, he jets his head and eyes feverishly back n forth checking all sides. Just then he hears a noise…


————The Dos Begins—————

A voice came into the room.

“Relax, son. This is a General from the United States Air Force in Abilene, Tx. We want to come in and talk to you about where you have been and how you got back.”

“What the hell is an Abilene? I don’t know where I’ve been but I ain’t going back there….where are the others I escaped with?” He said as he relaxed his stance.

After a long pause, he heard 3 door locks disengage. He took a few steps back, looked around and waited for the door to open.

The mechanical steel door slowly opened and in walked the General. Behind him stood 2 men with their issues weapons out of the holsters.
The General held out a can of Coca-Cola to him and said,

“Welcome home. Come. Sit down and tell me what has happened.”

He took the soda and sat down. He popped the top, heard the fizz and cracked a smile before he drank. He finished the drink let out a belch and said,

“I haven’t had one of those forever…..where are the others?”

“You….are the only survivor from the crash….the crash of a WW2 plane reported lost in battle. You…we’re reported missing in 1986. It is now 2021. We cannot question “the others”, which is why we need answers from you. Our national…ummm…global security depends in it.” The General sternly replied.

“Whoa…hold on…2021? This is a joke, right? What about my parents…friends…have they been notified that I’m not missing anymore?”

“No. And they won’t be until until we understand the gravity of the situation that you have been in and what it will take to protect us from it.”

He slumped in his chair. Looked at the General square in the eyes, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and plainly replied,

“You can’t protect yourselves from something that has been here since the first time man gazed up into the infinity of stars in the blackest of nights.”

He sat back up in his chair. Stared at the General with the same stern look he was just given…..and began to twitch.

First, it just a few short spasms. They quickly turned into a violent seizure. The General demanded medical personnel. Before they arrived the seizure stopped. He lay breathing shallowly on the floor.

As the medical personnel worked to hook him back up to the machines and stabilize his condition, he opened his eyes, looked blankly at no one in particular and said,

“I am beginning to think we were allowed to escape….”

A single tear ran down the side of his cheek as he lost consciousness.


Return To Sender- Uno

He knew something.

Those who were watching him from behind the one way glass monitored his every vital sign.

Heart rate, pulse, oxygen level and intake, brain scan, eye movement. Nothing could be left to chance.

He was the only one found alive after the crash.

The crash that no one could explain…..

That’s not entirely true. Planes crash all the time. The part that was unexplainable was the fact the plane was a B-17 Bomber reported lost in battle during World War 2 and the only survivor was a guy reported missing after a Van Halen concert in New Haven, Connecticut in 1986.

This is the year 2021. Planes like that you can only see in aviation museums and you tube videos. Not just appearing out of thin air over Abilene, Texas. As for the survivor…that concert ended a long time ago and by all accounts, he had not aged a day since then.

The bomber was first reported as a blip on a screen by personnel monitoring the skies at Dyess Air Force base in Abilene.

“Sir, I have detected an anomaly on our radar.”

“What is it.”

“Not sure, sir. All aircraft were accounted for….then this blip just appeared in the middle of the screen. I have attempted to make radio contact but am getting no response…..just dead air. Should we send up the jets to intercept.”

“Damn right we should.”

2 fighter jets were sent into the air to confirm or deny any activity in the sky.

“General…this is Bogey1. You are not gonna believe this…..We are flying over a B17 bomber”

“Come back, Bogey1?”

“Confirm. A B17 bomber….we are receiving no contact…only silence from it. She’s a beaut…..wait she’s got smoke coming out the back… propellers failing…I think she’s.. out of gas? She appears to be going down, sir!”

The bomber began to lose altitude at a rapid rate.



Down she plummeted. The huge aircraft smashed to the ground in an open field. She bounced twice then rolled, shearing off the wings and catching fire. Pieces of metal were strewn all over the field. The main fuselage of huge aircraft lay still, battered and burning.

He had been looking forward to this concert for months. Ever since, Van Halen released the album “5150”, he knew he had to hear it live. What rock n roll fan wouldn’t? The band had kicked out their long time flamboyant lead singer, David Lee Roth, and replaced him with Sammy Hagar. He liked Van Halen before, but with “The Red Rocker” at the mic he knew he had to go.

None of his friends were anywhere near as enthusiastic.

“Seriously…Van Hagar? What a joke. You may be the only one who even buys a ticket….no one takes the place of “Diamond Dave”..”

“Hell yeah, I’m going. I waited in line overnight for these 3rd row center stage bad boys. They are even going to film it for a live release.”

“Great, a live release for a dead band. I’ll save my dough for the Scorpions.”

“Your loss….I will come by after the show for a brew and tell you how bad ass it was.”

“You are going to need one after that crap fest. You think your beater car is gonna make it. You know the translation for No va is no go…”

“Ahh, she’s old but reliable. I’m golden…See you after the show!”

He flipped off his buddy, got into his blue 1979 Chevy Nova and headed to the show.

The concert was everything he thought it would be and more. The new songs sounded incredible and the classic Van Halen songs and Hagar solo tunes took on new meaning. He even was caught by the video cameras numerous times. 3rd row had its many advantages. He left the show and headed out to his car to leave, wearing his souvenir concert t shirt.

“I can’t wait to tell that loser friend of mine what he missed!” He’s said aloud to himself as he started up the Nova.

After being on the freeway for about 3 miles, he had to make a pit stop. The urge to urinate took over. He couldn’t make it to a rest stop and there was nothing between here and his destination but open road. He pulled over to the side of the freeway, turned off his vehicle and ventured off behind a tree to do his business.

After finishing he zipped up his fly and headed back to the car, he put his keys in the ignition and attempted to turn the engine.


“Stupid battery cable must be loose again.” He thought.

He popped the hood and opened it up to shake the cables around.

Twist twist

Bright light coming from behind his car.

“Must be someone stopping to help.” He thought

Twist twist

He reaches up to close the hood. As he slams it shut, his vision is accosted with blazing white light. He takes in a breath to say something.

Everything goes black.

The Nova is left along the roadside, driver door open, keys in ignition.

Air Force personnel, fire trucks, ambulances.

All were dispatched to the crash scene. Upon arrival the General took over and ordered the entire site blocked off. No one gets in or out without his approval.


From the wreckage, fire and smoke, a single form was seen walking out into the open.

A teenage boy with shoulder length hair, wearing jeans and what seemed to be a concert shirt walked out of the smoke, stopped, looked around and collapsed before anyone could reach him.

“Any change in the kid yet?” The General inquired.

“No sir. All vitals are stable and normal. I can’t believe he survived that UFO crash..”

“Zip it. That was no UFO. It was a B17 Bomber…COMPLETELY IDENTIFIABLE. This ain’t no Roswell, Corporal It won’t be either. I have already put out a press release saying that we had a restored bomber on a test flight for next years airshow. I repeat NO ROSWELL! Am I clear?”

“Yes sir, crystal.” He replied stoically. “But what about the other victims found in the wreckage.”

“Those were heroes from a war long ago, and were laid to rest with proper burials when the war ended. No need to stir up old wounds. We may be looking for new heroes once we find out what the kid knows. What do we know about the kid so far?”

“Missing persons database confirms his identity. He has been missing since 1986. Check out the picture.”

The General takes the form and holds it up to look at it.

“Son of a bitch…he hasn’t aged.”

“Nope…still going with a…General, He’s waking up.”

They step up to the one way glass and peer in as the kid starts to shake himself from the slumber.

The kid opens his eyes, shakes his head and looks down at the tubes in his arms and the monitoring equipment that surrounds his bed….and freaks out.

He starts breathing heavy and begins to yank the tubes out if his arms. He throws off the oxygen mask. Moves his hands all over his head and body to make sure he got them all. He jumps up from the bed, knocking over multiple monitoring devices and gets a little woozy from all the sudden commotion he caused and kneels over, places his hands on his knees to steady himself.

The Corporal states, “Should we go in?”

“No, let’s wait till he calms down. We will talk to him over the intercom.”

The dizziness passes. He stands up and looks straight into the one way glass, clenches his fists, cracks his neck and says,

“If you want to probe me anymore, you are gonna have to come in here. I’m done being a guinea pig.”

As he waits for a response, he jets his head and eyes feverishly back n forth checking all sides. Just then he hears a noise…



————to be continued—————