Prismacolor marker drawings lay crumpled up in the trashcan under the desk. The room is littered with forgotten bottles and books. I walk in and a take pictures, one after the other, sidestepping the body that lays in the middle of the floor. Looks like an overdose; alcohol, drugs. Another shooting star, who can’t handle […]
Prismacolor marker drawings lay crumpled up in the trashcan under the desk. The room is littered with forgotten bottles and books. I walk in and a take pictures, one after the other, sidestepping the body that lays in the middle of the floor. Looks like an overdose; alcohol, drugs. Another shooting star, who can’t handle the pressure, so tragic. I should write the headlines for the Tinseltown Star, no real journalism training needed. Later I find out it wasn’t an overdose it was murder. The boyfriend did it. Typical I think as I drink the now cold cup of coffee left on my desk.
I was seven the first time I learned about death. The cold finality of it all surrounded me like a blanket, keeping me company the remaining days of my life. I remember the coffin, light blue with brass handles. The flowers—lilies, evocative of death—covered every possible surface filling the church with their strong, honey-laced aroma. […]
It was in a previously unexplored region of the Levant, between several other spots of little obvious interest, that the specimen was found. It generated some buzz, though the team doing the recovery requested as little coverage as possible in order to make their job easier. In the end it was mostly speculation from the […]
