Parker Owens

Why ever am I the first to review this story? It's excellent reading, and wonderfully engaging. Just enough not-earth to keep me thinking, wondering. Many thanks.

This poem just made me want to weep, Gary. And even as sadness swept over me, I had to read it and re-read it, for it was so very well written. It had to be savored, even as a bitter or strong liquor is kept on the tongue. This reminds me how much I need to be the comfort and kindness for my friends, to bind up their silken armor (fantastic image), and treat their old wounds carefully. You call me to be aware, to be mindful, and to be ready with love to counter pain. Thank you for this, my friend.

Wonderful, Emi...it was well worth the wait. What a moving poem.

You paint the picture of Zac tearing himself into pieces very convincingly. It is so well done, I can feel the hurt. Poor guy simply doesn't want to understand something he knows, but has no clue what to do about it. How understanding his friends are will be a huge factor in what Zac decides, I suspect.

I confess to liking Geometry, too. So many ways for the perfect man to draw! Burnt shirt and slippers! Is there a story or a poem in there, Emi?

It bears repetition: Emi's Response is a master work. Only a reader utterly and completely numb or pathologically unable to connect could be unmoved by this poem. Funnier and Sunnier is both playful and cute; a perfect scherzo foil for the earlier poem. Kudos and hugs for both of these!

Well, I did think the words were kind of hypnotic. Why shouldn't the words of science and math be used for their fun and sound? Meteor was fun to write, especially.

Thank you, Emi. A friend of mine called it a "Tri-ku" for stringing three of them together. But it did seem like a perfect form for expressing these thoughts. You are quite right, that three little lines can turn out ideas that are quite powerful.

I think it pretty racy, Emi. Not to worry...it gave me a few shivers, after all!

Oh, yes. Brothers. Perfectly put, beautifully described. Can't get enough of their joy. Thanks.

I am glad that Wanderer touched you, Emi. It was fun to write, and the ending came together so naturally, it must have been waiting for me to wake up and realize it. Thanks so much!

It seemed to become more and more songlike in my mind the longer and longer the idea took hold. And for once, the conscious notion that this was a sort of ballade came to mind. Someone (do you know him? ) may have planted that idea once upon a time. The story altered itself as the song became more apparent, until the last stanza was practically shouting at me to get itself down on paper. Many thanks for the kind and generous words.

You too! The old song just kept coming back to me from time to time as the poem came together. But then again, so did the sound of Johnny Cash, and the still older voices of singers from my childhood. But Wanderer found his way home, and that was the best part of all.

I fell in love with that first line walking home one night, and had to scribble it down. But Autumn has its own scent, an earthy, rich smell that defies categorization until you include other senses in its description. It is perhaps a distillation of anticipation...thank you for your patience with my untimely response...

Yes, the hobo tunes resonate...and so does Johnny Cash, maybe...but even as the poem got under my skin, I recognized, as you do, that the Wanderer figured out that he had arrived where he was meant to be. Thanks, Dugh.

I found the the tale ran on longer than the original supply of rhymes I'd scouted out. What to do? But such fun, anyhow. The original line that grabbed me was "my lone abode was the open road..." And I'd planned to write something bleak and sorrowful. But it didn't happen that way. I am so glad you liked this, as it was fun to write and conceive. Best time I've had in study hall in a while...

Such amusing things happen as you run desperately out of usable rhymes...and the tale was an old one, but a good one. Many thanks for saying blushable words, here. I turned a shade darker to read them. Glad this gave you good cheer when you needed it. Thanks so much...P

I am in awe. What a creepy, mind bending story. Your repetitions help amplify both the pathology and the nature of the story. What really happened? I will not be able to sleep tonight, or walk in the park tomorrow.

Great installment in a beautiful live story. One could not expect the fathers to accept he pairing willingly, but to be so violently opposed is surprising. So, too, was Eric's mother's volte face. His sister's reaction was much more what I thought it would be. Best of all, Eli and Eric are together and happy. Whatever is with Dr. Weinstein, though?

Nice, nice chapter, with more insights into both men. Lots of good tension about the trip shaping up. And the last few paragraphs are perfect.

Wanderer I studied for years and was bored to tears in my gown and its matching black cap; and it seemed, my dears, I was in arrears for the government gave me a slap; 'cause the loans I owed were so overgrowed I'd be paying 'till seventy three; so my lone abode was the open road, fancy free, and with nowhere to be. Out of college I flew, with naught to do, and no income of which to dispose; bidding friends adieu, toward the west I blew, hitching rides, I would go with the flows; on a day i

So the box is opened; Zac recognizes this. What will he do about what got out? Can he name it? And if we remember the story of Pandora's Box, what remains inside? Looking forward to more!

I loved the 'morning after' scenes, just so much joy and love radiating off the page. However. A huge chill just descended. The RN (Reznick Nephew) is a serious threat not just to Kellar and Tobyn, but to all the Morningstar community, and others like it. Once the RN notes the departure of the shifter from his territory, he is certain to try and follow, tracking them implacably. The real question is how to take the offensive without putting anyone else in danger.

This chapter is a deeper and much needed excursion into Toph's self revelation. Until he actually thinks about it, the lack of a mother's embrace hasn't occurred to him. And yet, this natural and nearly unthinking gesture of maternal affection clearly illustrates the difference between Gary's life and his own. Why Toph feels the iron fist of control from his own mother remains unclear, as unclear as it is to himself. But that he feels it ought to be sufficient reason to seek professional help, and preferably before the crazy month to come. He can surely count on Gary, he knows that. But what else does he not know or remember that still casts a pall over his life even now? And will Gary be enough? You are weaving a subtle, foreboding and suspense over this tale. Beautifully done.

I fervently hope this link works...this remains a favorite,...https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=LlvUepMa31o