New one-shot story: A Dirge In Fugue Major (Patreon)

I'll keep this short.

Most of you know what happened.  The rest are about to find out.

I'm a wreck.  I cry at almost random times.  I get phone calls which stretch out into an hour as I have to tell it all again.  Just about every time I go outside, when I move through the apartment, something happens to make me think about it.

But I have to survive.  I have to find some way of going on.

It feels like all I have is the pain.  As if I can't try to continue any ongoing story until I give that pain a place to live.  Isolate it, let it tear apart its own private environment, and then maybe...

...I'm not okay.  I don't know when I might even be able to lie about that, even for a few hours at a time.

But I wrote this.  Because I had to find out if I could still write anything.

It's a 10,000 word scream. 

It's what I had to give.

I'm sorry...