Mine

[kjpepper]

Perhaps this is what writers are destined to do, dig the diamond mines of their lives, sifting through layers of grime, and dirt, the cramped conditions, the lack of air, the moldy reek of earth, all to dig out some small nugget of pure rapturous beauty that they can then cut and polish and bring out the natural brilliance. We are miner and jeweler wrapped in one identity, and our pickax, cutter and polisher are pen and paper and keyboard.

I should be working. Instead I sit in Seelye lab, methodically deleting bits of the past and crying inside...