One of my first memories in my entire life involves stories. Not just any stories, but my own stories, created in the infinite space that exists inside an irregular sphere of bone. I estimate at the time of this memory I was three years old. Since before this memory, and continuing for almost three decades there has been a near continuous narrative of fictional stories flowing through my mind. Better than any movie or book these stories have sustained me when no one else in the world could see my heart. They and the characters in them have been my best friends. For decades, these stories have evolved and grown and darkened and brightened, and more than anything they have filled the monotonous moments that make up parts of our life. I think they are quite entertaining.
This is a blog about the stories inside. The ones that no one has had a chance to read yet. When life gets entertaining enough, I write a story about that too. I hope you enjoy.