The anticipation that exhilarates us. This is all there is. Time began moments ago. We bloom in the flowers of its creation. We are rushing towards death. Let me die in your arms. Resurrect me with your mouth and we will pour libations to the goddess.

It was a warm day in May in the mountains. I was working from my office with the view of the pines out of the window when I received a text. It was from my ex-wife. "Zoë was choked out at school. I'm going to go pick

Guadalupe’s mother gave her a rosary carved from smooth wood on her deathbed. “Mija, take this to guide you,” she whispered as she held Guadalupe’s hand with the rosary. “Go with God.” Those were her last words. Cancer took her ability to speak. Within a month, they were attending her funeral.

Part VII: Denneweg “A man is not his hope, despair, or his past deeds. We know not yet what we have done, still less what we are doing. Wait till evening, and other parts of our day’s work will shine then we had thought at noon, and we shall

Part VI: Reconciliation “Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” ~Mark Twain “Those who love, friends and lovers, know that love is not only a blinding flash but also a long and

Part V: The Europe days. “The loneliness of the expatriate is of an odd and complicated kind, for it is inseparable from the feeling of being free of having escaped.” –Adam Gopnik. “Living in a foreign country is one of those things that everyone should try at least once. My

Part III: Where her troubles began “I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.” ~Edna St. Vincent Millay “You seem like you don’t want us to go,” she said angrily. “What the fuck is going on?” I had just

PART II The Byronic hero was popularized by Lord Byron. They can be an anti-hero, anti-villain or just a villain. They tend to be rebellious, arrogant, anti-social, exiled. They are always darkly romantic. Heathcliff, Lucifer, Jay Gatsby, Bond. They are mad and dangerous to know. “You are a beautiful man.

A Twitter novel by Scott Steward Transcribed from the 2018-2019 Twitter story. She was the most beautiful woman in town; I met her at a roadside bar at the edge of the city limits, and I watched her turn several men down; those sea green eyes and the way she

by Scott Steward, 28 July, 2022 Revision 3. A woman will gut you in public. She’ll pull out a knife and you will never see it until it is too late. I was in love when I was a young man. Her name was Stacy. She was simple. She

By Scott Steward, 14 July, 2022 The desert was cold that night. The vault of stars seemed to extend forever beyond the dunes and jagged mountain ranges. We navigated by moonlight. Weglin was ahead of me. My thumb was sore from holding down the throttle of the ATV. The night

by Scott Steward July 7, 2022 It was hot outside. The sun heated the uneven stone tiles outside of the barber shop. I opened the door. I was greeted by the proprietor with “as salaam alaikum”. Peace be with you. I sat down in the red vinyl barber chair. There

There is a valley in Afghanistan surrounded by the snowcapped mountains of the Hindu Kush. Sweeping grass plains stretch as far as the eye can see under a canopy of blue sky and dappled clouds.

By Scott Steward Revised June 4, 2022 Nora’s dead. The words lingered heavy and grey on the screen of my laptop. Matter of fact. Unfair. Impossible. I knew they rang true somehow. The message came through Facebook messenger sent from my good friend James who married Nora seven years