A little morbidity…
Just because I used an edit of it to get my mind working again, after a couple of weeks of bogging down and not being at all productive.
Honestly, I don't even know how to describe the genre for this one, except that it really is a mortography. And I can only hope a true one.
Enjoy. Critique. Whatever…
The one possible question: would this work as the prologue to a memoir entitled "40 Year Holiday - Lessong from a life / in which nothing and nowhere / ever felt like home"?
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Rick, only skim read two pages for now (the rest later). You clearly, clearly, have a unique voice. That's clinches it for me. Well done.
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Crikey. That's a hell of a read. Most uncomfortable and very well done.
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Intoxicating, excruciating, compelling, I've read this through twice, it truly is a unique read. Very well done.
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I love the style and tone here Rick. I found it to be very Kafka-esque. Great job.
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I wrote something like this when I was in my punk days and my father was basically in my friend group. It starts off like a dream, but at some point it has to take on a morbid focus. My two cents, is that it takes on a clinical edge, prepare to take it to the other extreme?
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