Holy Week

I have been betrayed myself. A conspiracy was formed against me.
I'm not bitter, I am hurt. I wonder what I could have done to make
a difference, but nothing comes to mind. I did not deserve these cuts
or this stress. I have tried to get myself--my mind--off these negative
thoughts by writing--a story I have been trying to write for a year or
two and never finding time to write. I have to finish it before I go. I am
ready to go, but I will finish it first. I owe that to myself. To prove I am
a writer. Maybe not a very good writer, just a writer. Not Hemingway,
Capote--not a poet or a story teller, just a hack who liked to write.

Now I have time. Waiting to be evicted and starve to death, I have time.
Get this done and pass it on. Let the next one who finds it decide what
it's worth and either publish it or burn it with their tongs of fire. I will rest
knowing it was done.

WPCannon
1435
31 March 2010
Mount Vernon Public Library