We're Fumbling In The Dark, But At

What's Wrong With People?" She Says, Almost Too Quiet For Me To Hear. "were They Born With Parts Missing Or Did It Fall Out Somewhere Along The Way?

Is This Muteness A Real Physical Handicap? One Of The Many Symptoms Of Being Dead?or Do We Just Have Nothing Left To Say?

It's More Eerie To Be Alone In A City That's Lit Up And Functioning Than One That's A Tomb. If Everything Were Silent, One Could Almost Pretend To Be In Nature. A Forest. A Meadow. Crickets And Birdsong. But The Corpse Of Civilization Is As Restless As The Creatures That Now Roam The Graveyards.

I Think For A Minute. Watching My Wife Fade Into The Distance, I Put A Hand On My Heart. "dead." I Wave A Hand Toward My Wife. "dead." My Eyes Drift Toward The Sky And Lose Their Focus. "want It...to Hurt. But...doesn't." Julie Looks At Me Like She's Waiting For More, And I Wonder If I've Expressed Anything At All With My Halting, Mumbled Soliloquy. Are My Words Ever Actually Audible, Or Do They Just Echo In My Head While People Stare At Me, Waiting? I Want To Change My Punctuation. I Long For Exclamation Marks, But I'm Drowning In Ellipses.

One Mistake, One Brief Lapse Of My New Found Judgement-that's All It Took To Unravel Everything. What A Massive Responsibility, Being A Moral Creature.