fictionary… 8 megapixel artist… bloody awful poet.

Serial – Two: In the Distant Shimmer


Happiness is an illusion.  We are told it can be found like water we are convinced exists in the distant shimmer of a mirage.  One step, one lunge, one gulp of hot sand meant to slake the very thirst that was created by the illusion itself.  Self-perpetuating.  Self-fulfilling.  Self-defeating.  It kills as it gives life.  Slowly, and with the surety of a lover’s skilled hands.  Convincing us that the way things are, is the way things should be.  Even if we die in the process.


© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday


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