Author: Kevin Fraleigh
Pandemic Sprawl
I don’t know about you, but since March, my house has been infected with what I call “Pandemic Sprawl”. Pandemic Sprawl is basically the accumulation of stuff arriving by FedEx, UPS, and the USPS. All the stuff is essential, of course, and always seems to arrive in oversize cardboard boxes….
The only thing I know
Everything I have ever believed had faith in or loved is a lie. The world is a deception the book the words all lies. My smile is a false front my jokes my laughter all lies. The history they taught us the religion they fed us the lies swell around…
The universe is expanding
The universe of Any Tomorrow is expanding. As I told you in my last post, it was time to decide—and I have. That is one of the benefits of self-publication, the absolute right to change things, and it’s going to be a big change. The Any Tomorrow series will now…
Facing facts
It’s time to face facts. I am 65 years old. Given my family history, I have perhaps ten, at the outside fifteen, years left to write. Facing this reality I have made several decisions about the Any Tomorrow series. In its latest iteration Any Tomorrow rings in at more than…
Too soon?
Is it too soon to wonder about the post-apocalyptic world our children will inherit? Even when COVID-19 is declared dead, it will not be done with us. The fear it has sewn into the fabric of our daily lives will haunt us through generations yet to be born.
Old friends are calling me
I’ve heard from various sources that once a novel is written, it should not be revisited or revised. The best idea, some advise, is to simply move on, always focused on the next project. The fear is that the writer might become captive to an endless cycle of writing, editing,…
Today, Tomorrow, Always
The world has gone quite mad, but the reality of it little resembles the dystopian future so often portrayed in the most popular tomes and movies. The Road. The Stand. Hunger Games. World War-Z. There is a pandemic sweeping the globe, but so far there has been no rationing, no…
2020
This is the pandemic those writers warned you about.
Dead Silence
We lay together for an hour, My hand cupping your breast. I move my hand down to touch you, But your arm, wrapped in the sheet Blocks me like a wall, impenetrable. I move my hand to yours and my thoughts Recall the thick headiness of our love And lust…
And you don’t say a thing
My underwear’s too tightMy clothes just don’t fit rightI reach out for you babyBut you’re no where in the nightAnd you don’t sayA thing.You say you want a thrillThat you are on the pillBut baby if my wife finds outIt’s me she’s gonna killAnd you don’t sayA thingBaby since I…
