Yet, lately it feels like life is simply about clinging onto something, anything to give us a reason to keep going. Even as I sit here typing, I know ...hat my purpose here is driven solely by this eternal reaching, and the cycle of letting go of what I once had. I wonder what happens when I don’t want to dance for this theatre anymore. It has been too long since I’ve tried to speculate my inner working on the page. I think I let go of the idea that my words were worth the print. Tonight. ”Erik pulled in to the driveway but did not shut off his truck. Jake had his hand on the door handle and gave Erik a questioning look. Erik told him he was on his own and, as soon as Jake closed the door behind himself, Erik jammed the truck in reverse and split.Jake sucked it up and rang the doorbell. Erika opened the door, saw who it was, and nearly dislocated his arm pulling him inside. It was not the reception he expected. Erik had him prepared for something he would need a whip and chair. More

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