Creative Nonfiction

Love: to hold something higher than your own need, to value the health and happiness of some one, or some thing, at a greater measurement than your own reward. Love, like a tree, can grow twisted and gnarled yet never ceases to be love. And like a tree, love is innocent of the damage it does to those bold enough to say they understand. Love is premeditated sacrifice, like milk, when it could be blood. I’m sure at some point it was, hungry clones clawing at the host, the only

The clock has improved its poker face. Tough time telling time what to do. Time moves forward because it takes less energy than moving backward. Undoing is far harder than doing, ask any atom. Movement, mistaken for time, we say things like ‘spinning’ but if a boat spins on a lake, spinning is sending out ripples and waves and inspiring spinning in others and starts to carve out a groove in the water making spinning cost less energy over time. We see empty space like pointing